In the 1950s, tenor-saxophonist Ben Webster was at the peak of his powers. His musical personality really featured two separate emotions: harsh and tough on the faster pieces and surprisingly warm and tender on the ballads. Webster uses the latter voice throughout this two-LP set. On all but four of 20 selections, Ben is backed by a string section arranged by Ralph Burns (except for "Chelsea Bridge" which was arranged by Billy Strayhorn) and, although clarinetists Tony Scott and Jimmy Hamilton and pianists Teddy Wilson and Hank Jones are heard from, the focus is otherwise entirely on the great tenor. The final four numbers, which matches Webster with Wilson in a stringless quartet, also stick to ballads. Music that is both beautiful and creative.

Despite being a rather inconsistent act, the Eagles were one of the most successful rock bands of the '70s. Made up of five fine musicians (each with unquestionably superb vocal talent), the band blended impressive but often simple music with melodious vocal harmonies. This 1994 release attempts to collect the best tracks from the Eagles' catalog. While it does succeed in compiling many of the finer songs, the need for certain tracks is questionable. On the whole, however, The Very Best Of retains the Eagles magic that typified their finer moments. For those unfamiliar with the Eagles' music, this release will open eyes as to why the band is so revered. The album goes from strength to strength and only takes a small drop in quality in various places. Being slightly overlong at 71 minutes, this is as complete a best-of as one will find, but includes a few unnecessary tracks.

Schubert's two greatest orchestral works on one CD at budget price–if the performances were indifferent this would be no bargain at all, but they are superb. In fact, these versions may have been equaled, but they have never been surpassed. George Szell understood intuitively how to balance Romantic passion with intellectual discipline. In difficult pieces like the Schubert Ninth, he rose to the challenge like an Olympic athlete after a new world record. The recordings he made in his prime with his own Cleveland Orchestra comprise one of the most satisfying legacies in the history of classical music on disc. Within even this impressive legacy, these performances stand high.

Jan Antonín Losy was born around 1650 of a prosperous Bohemian family. After the death of his father, the first Count of Losinthal, he inherited not only his title but also considerable wealth. He was therefore able to devote his life to music, and his skill as a lutenist became famous throughout Europe. Unlike professional players, Losy had no need to sell or publish his music but fortunately it has survived in numerous manuscript copies. Today we have almost 200 pieces by Count Losy, many of which once belonged together in larger suites or partitas.

Giacomo Facco was born on 1676 in the Most Serene Republic of Venice, in the small village of Marsango. The first documentary records of his work are in a series of cantatas, dated 1702, kept in Naples. It is there he may have started working for Antonio Spi?nola. The Spi?nola family was part of the high Spanish nobility and Antonio, during the War of the Spanish Succession, was appointed Viceroy of Sicily, where he lived until 1713. Facco also moved there with the marquis’ court, and had a period of intense activity, during which he premiered several operas and oratorios, as well as some cantatas.

Charlie Poole wasn't a particularly brilliant banjo player (although his later three-finger-style picking would set the table for the advent of bluegrass banjo a couple of decades after his death), and he wasn't the world's greatest vocalist either, but he had a certain devil-may-care charisma that made him a superstar in the string band era of the 1920s. Poole's greatest talent – aside from an ability to go on long drinking sprees and to manage to be at the center of things even in his absence – was in his song adaptations, which drew from sources outside the standard Appalachian fiddle tunes and reels, including pop, ragtime, and blues. This extensive 96-track, four-disc box set from Britain's JSP Records collects the lion's share of his recordings on Columbia, Poole's label from 1925 until his death in 1931 at the age of 39. Also included are a handful of cuts Poole made under the table for Paramount (where his North Carolina Ramblers were called the Highlanders) and Brunswick (which saw the band disguised as the Allegheny Highlanders).