As the line in the opening track "The Peanut Vendor" says: "Fifty million monkeys can't be wrong. " And back in 1971 the buyers of this debut LP (originally The King's Singers: By Appointment) found overwhelming proof in its vinyl grooves that a refreshingly new quality product was on the market. Soon the unlikely lads (Nigel Perrin, Alastair Hume, Alastair Thompson, Anthony Holt, Simon Carrington and Brian Kay) were all over our television screens in the company of the likes of Val Doonican, Shirley Bassey and Nana Mouskouri-also, of course, performing bucketloads of serious repertoire in concerts. For those who rushed to buy the original, this re-release is a real trip down memory lane, the excellent sound enhanced by the extra detail and colour in the CD transfer (though, please note, there is less than 35 minutes of music). "Cherry Ripe", "Scarborough Fair", Bacharach's "Wives and Lovers" and lots more, performed with that familiar mix of vocal perfection and effortless poise, complemented by the discreet contribution of the Gordon Langford Trio. The annoying thing nonetheless is that such dazzling accomplishment was in the long run subject to mere fashion, at least in the UK. The current King's Singers dazzle just the same, but they are more to be seen on foreign TV screens than ever at home. Shame! -Andrew Green.

Looked at from virtually any angle, this Tosca is a triumph. It is lavishly presented (billed as the Original Motion Picture Soundtrack of Benoit Jacquot's film), superbly engineered and boasts a first-rate cast. There are, indeed, two distinct stars: the outstanding soprano Angela Gheorghiu in an assumption of the title role which is awe-inspiring in its breadth of emotion and dramatic range; and the conductor, Antonio Pappano, whose intimate knowledge of Puccini's score illuminates page after page and detail after detail. Pappano possesses a complete grasp of the operatic situation, faultlessly pacing the whole opera to bring about a spine-tingling climax. The Chorus and Orchestra of the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden give their all for him. If Roberto Alagna's portrayal of Cavaradossi does not quite scale the dizzying heights of Gheorghiu's Tosca, he is nevertheless capable of much subtlety. Ruggero Raimondi's Scarpia is all the more evil for his multi-layered approach to this character. Pappano's Tosca now becomes the modern version to have. Ideally, it should sit in one's record collection along with Maria Callas' classic 1953 mono version. -Colin Clarke.

One of the most frequently mentioned "favourite" works of Bach, the B Minor Mass is not really a functional liturgical work, but an assemblage of movements written over a period of many years. Its grand scale is certainly awesome, but its musical and spiritual unity is more remarkable, considering its origin and the fact that it contains several different compositional styles-not to mention some of Bach's most profound and beautiful music. Performing this work and preserving a sense of its grand design while bringing out the considerable musical details is a challenge that most choirs, orchestras, and conductors are not up to. Almost by consensus, however, John Eliot Gardiner's version is the most successful-and it is indeed a phenomenal recording-at once sumptuous and penetrating, with gorgeous choral and solo singing, and spacious, vibrant sound. -David Vernier.