A collection of Jobim's Brazilian songs on an Argentinean record production, but it is really the first song, Eu sei que vou te amar, that's worth the whole disc. Every once in awhile a writer, artist or composer creates a jewel, when everything worthwhile comes together and the total is a masterpiece, worth far more than the sum of its parts. The melody, the lyric, and Maysa's incomparable voice transcend a song about love lasting a lifetime and become love itself.

It is probably now or never. With classic older sets vying with a clutch of more recent recordings, there is currently as complete and interesting an array of recordings of Rossini's La Cenerentola as we are likely to get at any one time. Among recent versions, Chailly's new Decca set is self-evidently a powerful contender. Cecilia Bartoli is arguably the most personable and musically accomplished Cenerentola since Teresa Berganza recorded the role with Abbado in 1971; and there is a strong cast of supporting principals, among them Alessandro Corbelli who offers the best characterized Dandini since Bruscantini. (With the added advantage of being far more technically expert in fioriture passages than was his distinguished predecessor.)

Although the band Anathema has since gone down a much more atmospheric and melodic route with their music, it's important to note that the group began as one of the pioneers of death doom metal, a style of music similar in its melancholic feeling to what Anathema has done more recently, but much heavier and darker in the one it is executed. With a few demos and this debut 'Serenades', Anathema would be setting the groundwork for a style that has since become much more popular by the likes of bands like Swallow the Sun. Although 'Serenades' is a classic work for its development in that doom metal sound, it is an incredibly hit-or-miss ordeal throughout, and may be better appreciated for its place in history than as a listening experience of its own.

This CD offers 75 minutes of dynamic electronic music. Joining Boots on this release are: Klaus Hoffmann Hoock on guitar, Harold van der Heijden and Guido Negraszus on drums, and Eric van der Heijden.
Even the most discriminating audiophile will be captivated from the onset of this CD. Crystalline keyboards tremble with icy clarity, while majestic drums delineate powerfully engaging rhythms. Sparkling electronic embellishments cavort in a gloriously twilight sky, evoking strong promise for an optimistic sunrise. A thrilling drama permeates this song, reaching deep into the human soul to stir legendary courage and bring such emotions cascading to the surface of the audience's mind. The melodic music is wrought with sinewy disposition tempered with humanitarian sympathy, a masterful fusion of strength and compassion that will delight as equally as it mesmerizes…

This is the second disc to come from Paul McCreesh and his Gabrieli forces and it is already their second Gramophone Award. When I reviewed their Virgin Classics' recording of a reconstruction of a dogal coronation of 1595 (5/90) I admired their stylish blend of informed scholarship and sensitive musicianship allied to performances from musicians well-versed in the language of the period. Added to that the music was recorded with great immediacy in the acoustically impressive surroundings of Brinkburn Priory in Northumberland. For this reconstruction of a Vespers that could have be held in St Mark's, Venice McCreesh shows a real understanding of the placing and choreography of the participants in the musical aspects of the liturgy.

In the mid-1980s, the Swedish Dragon label came out with five LPs of music featuring the great Swedish baritonist Lars Gullin. The second volume, which has the earliest recordings in the batch, consists of performances that were either previously unreleased or quite obscure at the time. Gullin is heard in quartets and quintets, sometimes as a sideman, including a few very rare appearances on alto which, although worthy, show why he mostly stuck to baritone. The cool-toned bop, reminiscent but not derivative of Gerry Mulligan, should be of great interest to 1950s jazz collectors.

Heinichen's Dresden Concertos created quite a stir when they were first released a couple of years ago, and for good reason. This is vital, colorful music scored for a large and varied ensemble. Like most composers of his day, Heinichen spent the majority of his compositional talent in the service of vocal music, for either the opera house or church. These pieces represent his only surviving set of concertos, and anyone who enjoys, for example, Bach's Brandenburg Concertos or the orchestral works of Zelenka will certainly want to hear these as well. These performances are simply the last word in style and virtuosity.

In the Telemann mountains, much of the topography remains terra incognita because most of Telemann's music remains an undiscovered country. But whatever future generations of hardy musicologists may uncover, it is unlikely that Telemann's Nouveaux Quatuors en Six Suites published in Paris in 1738 will be displaced as among his output's highest peaks.

The Odeon Trio go for gold. Unlike either the Beaux Arts (Philips) or the Fontenay (Teldec), they use three CDs to include everything by Brahms that could possibly be called a piano trio, not forgetting the Op. 114 and Op. 40 wind trios, whose wind parts can well be rendered by strings. They decide, too, that the original 1853 version of the B major Trio is for them, rather than the revised version of 1889 which is more generally favoured.

Bakels draws ravishing sounds from the Bournemouth Symphony Orchestra, notably the strings…A thrilling experience…this is a performance to stimulate the ear.

Jeff Buckley resented being called a folk singer, but he made his name playing solo sets like this one on the New York coffee circuit. Sony released this live EP before his first fully produced rock album, Grace, perhaps to attract attention to the raw power of Buckley's greatest gift, his voice. These four songs certainly accomplished that end. Buckley hurdles seemingly unreachable octaves, suspends notes for what seems like minutes, and belts out his falsetto without a scintilla of restraint. That's a positive inasmuch as it allowed him to show off his considerable talent; it's a negative when it sounded like he was showing off. But his ten-minute cover of Van Morrison's "The Way Young Lovers Do" is a tour de force of strumming and scatting, and his acoustic "Eternal Life" has an electricity that is paradoxically lacking on the plugged-in album version.[A deluxe edition released after his death added dozens of additional live tracks.]

Here's Some That Got Away is the second compilation album by The Style Council, released in 1993. As the album cover states, the album contains rarities such as demos and B-sides, many of them previously unreleased. It follows 1992's Extras, featuring rarities by Paul Weller's previous band The Jam. The album is something of a sister album to The Singular Adventures of The Style Council, the band's 1989 singles compilation.

Cosi fan tutte"Of the numerous recordings of Cosi fan tutte in the catalogue, many of them excellent, I don't think there is any that has moved me as intensely at the work's ultimate climax, the Act 2 finale, as this new one of John Eliot Gardiner's. Nowadays we recognize, of course, that Cosi is not the frivolous frolic at the expense of womankind that it was long supposed to be, but something much more serious and (in my view at least) deeply sympathetic to women. Gardiner takes much of the finale at a rather steady pace, allowing plenty of time in the canon-toast for a gorgeous sensuous interplay of these lovely young voices, then carefully pacing the E major music that follows, pointing up the alarmed G minor music after the march is heard and sustaining the tension artfully at a high level during the denouement scene: so that, when their vow of undying love and loyalty, 'Idol mio, se questo e vero', is finally reached, it carries great pathos and emotional weight, and the sense too that all are chastened by the experience is evident in the ensemble that ensues.

Ten Summoner's Tales Review by Stephen Thomas Erlewine
After two albums of muted, mature jazz-inflected pop, the last being an explicit album about death, Sting created his first unapologetically pop album since the Police with Ten Summoner's Tales. The title, a rather awkward pun on his given last name, is significant, since it emphasizes that this album is a collection of songs, without any musical conceits or lyrical concepts tying it together. And, frankly, that's a bit of a relief after the oppressively somber The Soul Cages and the hushed though lovely, Nothing Like the Sun. Sting even loosens up enough to crack jokes, both clever (the winking litany of celebrity pains of "Epilogue[Nothing 'Bout Me]") and condescending (the sneeringly catchy cowboy tale "Love Is Stronger Than Justice[The Munificent Seven]"), and the result is his best solo record. In places, it's easily as pretentious as his earlier work, but that's undercut by writing that hasn't been this sharp and melodic since the Police, plus his most varied set of songs since Synchronicity. True, there isn't a preponderance of flat-out classics – only the surging opener "If I Ever Lose My Faith in You," the understated swing of "It's Probably Me," and the peaceful ballad "Fields of Gold" rank as classics – but, as an album, Ten Summoner's Tales is more consistently satisfying than anything else in his catalog.