Original Off-Broadway Cast, 1998 (Resmiranda) (3 / 5) Dorris Betts’ short story “The Ugliest Pilgrim” — about a young woman who, maimed by an axe blade as a child, goes on a journey of healing — was the basis for this gem with music by Jeanine Tesori and lyrics by Brian Crawley. Lauren Ward’s Violet is a complex heroine; injured inside and out, she’s full of both bitterness and hope, and her lovely performance translates well onto the recording. It’s when Violet’s biting tongue turns sweet that she sings the highlight of the score, “Lay Down Your Head,” with a melody that makes one’s heart ache. The other songs don’t quite reach that level of simple perfection, but a few that come close are the all-too-brief “Water in the Well,” the thrilling “Let It Sing,” and “On My Way,” a rousing ensemble number that sets Violet and her fellow passengers off on their bus trip. Violet’s trek takes her from North Carolina to Oklahoma, where she goes to meet the televangelist whom she hopes will heal her. On the way, she becomes involved in a love triangle with two soldiers, one white (played by Michael Park), the other black (played by Michael McElroy). Crawley tells their story through colloquial lyrics that feel effortless and natural, and Tesori comes up with a handful of fine countrified tunes. Her gospel songs are less distinguished, but the Broadway Gospel Choir and the powerhouse singer-actor McElroy give this spirited musical some real soul. — Brooke Pierce

Film Soundtrack, 1982 (MGM/Rhino/GNP Crescendo) (1 / 5) The Blake Edwards film that served as the basis for Julie Andrews’ last Broadway musical is really a comedy with a few incidental songs. Based on a 1933 German film, it stars Andrews as Victoria, a light opera soprano stranded in  1930s Paris. She’s taken in by Toddy (Robert Preston), a gay nightclub performer who reinvents her as Victor, a Polish female impersonator. Trouble sets in when King Marchan, a Chicago gangster (James Garner), finds himself attracted to “Victor.” The wildly padded soundtrack disc is filled with instrumental interludes from Henry Mancini’s easy-listening score. The film’s few actual songs, with lyrics by Leslie Bricusse, are heard repeatedly in different versions; for example, the silly specialty item “The Shady Dame From Seville.” Andrews and Preston are never less than pros, but this recording is barely worthwhile. — David Barbour

Original Broadway Cast, 1995 (Philips/Decca) (1 / 5) Julie Andrews’ much-anticipated return to Broadway was upstaged to a certain extent by this show’s many peripheral dramas, including Andrews’ frequent absences, her Tony Awards boycott, and the notorious replacement runs of Liza Minnelli and Raquel Welch. Victor/Victoria was a long-run disappointment, a ham-fisted adaptation of a hit Andrews film put together by a mediocre creative team led by Andrews’ husband, director-librettist Blake Edwards. As in the film, which was also written and directed by Edwards, Andrews’ Victoria is transformed into Victor by Toddy, played here by Tony Roberts (see the review above for more of the plot). Even with her voice darkened by age and afflicted with mannerisms, Andrews is fun to hear on the album; but to get to the pleasant bits, you’ll have to put up with some of the weakest songs ever written for a Broadway show. The main culprits are Henry Mancini and Leslie Bricusse, but additional music was written by Frank Wildhorn after Mancini’s death. “If I Were a Man” sets up the plot in the most laborious fashion. Even worse is “King’s Lament,” in which Victoria’s love interest, King Marchan (Michael Nouri), wrestles with his masculinity. The rock-bottom songs go to Rachel York in the role of King’s chorine girlfriend; they include “Chicago, Illinois” from the movie version (“Smack on the lake, this is a rare port / Someday, they say, we’ll have an airport!”) and the egregious “Paris Makes Me Horny,” which rummages through the names of European cities for the sake of smutty jokes. (Sample: “Been to Munich, where every guy’s a eunuch.”) Andrews makes something out of generic ballads like “Crazy World” (again, from the film) and “Living in the Shadows,” and she has fun with “Le Jazz Hot” (also from the film), but she and Nouri are defeated by the deadly “Almost a Love Song,” which has almost a melody. An unintentional camp highlight is “Louis Says,” one of Victor’s onstage numbers, in which Andrews swans about the stage as Marie Antoinette. Just try to parse the impenetrable stream-of-consciousness lyrics of this song. — D.B.

Broadway Cast, 1975 (DRG) (3 / 5) Very lively, very catchy, very melodic — but not Very Good Eddie. The Goodspeed Opera House’s revival of the 1915 Jerome Kern musical — the first show in the famed Princess Theatre series — was such a hit in Connecticut that David Merrick picked it up and brought it intact to Broadway, where it ran for nearly a year. But, as is Goodspeed’s bad habit, the production fiddled with perfectly fine original material. The result was a kind of hybrid, with several songs missing and others appropriated from various other Kern shows, so much so that nine lyricists are credited! Russell Warner’s lean orchestrations are probably reasonable reductions of Frank Saddler’s originals but, as musical director/conductor, Warner sticks pretty much to one speed: “rollicking.” Yes, the score is full of infectious ragtime, but even ragtime should have more variety than this. Worse, the performance style evinces much winking and borderline camping, especially among the women: Virginia Seidel’s Minnie-Mouse-on-speed chirping just about kills the irresistible “Left All Alone Again Blues,” and Travis Hudson stomps “Moon of Love” into the floorboards. But male leads Charles Repole and David Christmas are more appealing, and the chorus numbers, such as “I’ve Got to Dance” and “Hot Dog,” are so ingratiating that you will, in fact, want to get up and dance. — Marc Miller

Original Broadway Cast, 1979 (Original Cast Records) (2 / 5) This was a good idea: a sort of unofficial musical version of the old “St. Trinian’s” stories and movies about an English school filled with horrid little girls. The first 10 minutes of the show are fun, as authors Clark Gesner and Nagle Jackson (who also directed) set up various characters and story lines — and then simply abandon them. The rest of The Utter Glory of Morrissey Hall is plotless, filled with incidents that don’t tie together. For example, one group of girls believe they’re about to be sold into white slavery; a young boy in love mails himself to his girlfriend in a trunk; and there’s a grown-up romance between a secretary and a salesman who must hide their passion. Presiding over all of this is the dotty headmistress, played amusingly by Celeste Holm. As events spin out of her control, the woman simply withdraws, locking herself in her office and happily pressing flowers. Gesner, the composer-lyricist of You’re a Good Man, Charlie Brown, provides a score that’s lightly mocking in a stiff-upper-lip sort of way, but with nothing substantial to hang these songs on, they don’t add up to much. — David Wolf

Original Broadway Cast, 2001 (RCA) (4 / 5) This show, which winks at Bertolt Brecht-Kurt Weill works and like-minded tuners, poses the musical question: Is it possible for a score to be too clever? The answer is probably yes. To complement a book about a Mahagonny-type burg where the citizens are oppressed by a corporation that controls all restrooms, composer-lyricist Mark Hollmann and lyricist-librettist Greg Kotis wrote a tuneful score that cannily mocks even as it pays homage. While hooting at musical cliches in song and dialogue, the creators walk a thin line with the agility of world-class aerialists. Spilling from this words-and-notes cornucopia are send-ups of such musical conventions as title tunes, double-edged ballads (“Follow Your Heart”), comedy turns (“Don’t Be the Bunny”), and heart-lifters (“Run, Freedom, Run!”). The cast is led by staunch Hunter Foster, full-of-his-bad-self John Cullum, cute-as-a-frayed-button Spencer Kayden, sincere Jennifer Laura Thompson, and Jeff McCarthy, who places his tongue very firmly in his cheek in the role of Officer Lockstock. All have the required fervor. The problem is an embarrassment of riches that begins to tire the listener as the songs, delivered by a dynamic ensemble, start to sound alike. Of course, those who experience Urinetown only via the recording can’t see the wonders worked by John Rando and John Carrafa, who followed the tunesmiths’ ribbing of various styles of musical theater writing by doing the same with their direction and choreography, respectively. Still, the score is far above average for contemporary musicals and very well played by a sassy five-person band, with Edward Goldschneider at the piano. — David Finkle

Original Broadway Cast, 1960 (Capitol/Angel) (4 / 5) “I ain’t down yet!” shouts/sings the title character of this rowdy musical based on the real-life story of Molly Brown, and that might also be the motto of the show itself. Composer-lyricist Meredith Willson wrote this score right after his spectacular success with The Music Man. In a sense, The Unsinkable Molly Brown is the feisty younger sister of that great American musical; it’s rough around the edges, but just as appealing in its own way. One reason for its initial success was the casting of the young Tammy Grimes and Harve Presnell, who were instantly recognized for their star quality in the show’s leading roles. Grimes’ inimitable voice is perfect for Molly, and her performance on the album is full of energy, especially in the rousing “I Ain’t Down Yet” and “Belly Up to the Bar, Boys.” Presnell’s gorgeous baritone is a joy; when he belts out “I’ll Never Say No,” goose bumps rise. The album is so well recorded that it makes you feel as if you’re seated front-row-center for this joyous musical.  Oddly, although Johnny Brown’s “Colorado, My Home” is in the show’s printed score and the melody is heard briefly in the overture, the song is not sung by Presnell on the album. But the recording is otherwise quite full, and since so many numbers were cut from the film version of Molly Brown and its soundtrack album (see below), this is your best opportunity to hear the bulk of the original score, including “I’ve A’ready Started In,” “My Own Brass Bed,” “Bea-u-ti-ful People of Denver,” “Are You Sure,” “If I Knew,” “Chick-a-Pen,” and “Dolce Far Niente.” — Gerard Alessandrini

Film Soundtrack, 1964 (MGM/Rhino-Turner) (4 / 5) Debbie Reynolds wrapped this musical around her little finger when she made the movie version. While the film is uneven, Reynolds propels it into the realm of a great MGM musical by shouting, grunting, and absolutely refusing to give less than 100 percent of herself to the role of Molly. Happily, Harve Presnell recreates his stunning Broadway performance as Johnny Brown; here, he sounds less big-baritonal and more tenorish than he does on the Broadway recording, but the effect is appropriate for the greater intimacy of the film medium. One of Presnell’s best numbers is the majestic “Colorado, My Home,” absent from the Broadway album. “I Ain’t Down Yet’ and “Belly Up to the Bar Boys” are the high points for Reynolds. Robert Armbruster’s musical direction is excellent, and the thrilling orchestrations are just about up to par with the great MGM musical sound of earlier decades. The only unfortunate aspect of the film and the soundtrack album is that so many of the Broadway songs were excised; missed most of all are “Beautiful People of Denver” and “Are You Sure?” Willson did write one new song for the film: “He’s My Friend,” a free-for-all dance number that helps keep the second half of the movie buoyant, at least until that scene where the Titanic sinks. Rhino’s expanded soundtrack CD is a delight. — G.A.

Off-Broadway Cast, 2020 (Broadway Records/Yellow Sound Lab) (3 / 5) A top-to-bottom revamp of this not-quite-classic musical, the Transport Group’s revisal of a show they still insisted on calling The Unsinkable Molly Brown was embraced by some but deplored by others. Courtesy of Dick Scanlan, this production featured an unfocused new book with too many added, extraneous characters, plus a different song stack  — a few Meredith Willson songs not found in the original score were thrown in, and there are also some omissions. The cast album eschews an overture and begins with “I Ain’t Down Yet,” which is probably just as well, considering the smallish orchestra heard here; and while David Aron Damane as JJ (f.k.a. Johnny Brown) brings a rich, warm baritone to “I’ll Never Say No” and other songs, we don’t get to hear him sing “Colorado My Home,” as that number is included only as a “bonus track” sung by the ensemble. (Michael Rafter is credited, or debited, with the “adaptation of Meredith Willson’s music,” and Joey Chancey is the music director.) To put it mildly, fans of The Unsinkable Molly Brown in its original form are likely to be nonplussed by all the cuts, additions, and rewrites made for this new creation. Still, the cast album is enjoyable on its own terms, highlighted by Beth Malone’s delightfully spunky performance in the title role, plus some lusty singing from the rest of the company. And for all of the objections that might be filed concerning the major changes made for this revisal, it is nice to have “He’s My Friend,” which Willson wrote specifically for the film version of Molly Brown, finally included in the show score.  [Note: This production’s run was abbreviated by the COVID pandemic, and the cast recording sessions were delayed, which accounts for the fact that the album wasn’t released until the summer of 2022.] — Michael Portantiere

Original Broadway Cast, 1952 (RCA/Masterworks Broadway) (3 / 5) Bette Davis always claimed that she knew exactly what she was doing when she decided to star in this revue. “Just turn me loose on Broadway as a musical comedy girl,” she sings (?) here. Two’s Company certainly had some prime talent behind it: composer Vernon Duke, lyricists Ogden Nash and Sammy Cahn, choreographer Jerome Robbins, and a strong cast that included David Burns, Ellen Hanley, and Nora Kaye. But the critics were bewildered, and the star’s illness forced the show to close after three sold-out months on Broadway. Without this particular star, Two’s Company would have been just another late-entry collection of topical skits and so-so songs; with her, it has retained a status perched somewhere between legendary disaster and unparalleled curiosity. The cast album certainly makes for interesting listening. The material is adequate, the supporting cast and presentation are strong, and the opening “Theatre Is a Lady” is a worthy anthem. Onstage, Davis’s authority may have masked some of her musical deficiencies, but on the recording, she sounds like a drag impersonator in a piano bar just before last call. Her pitch is uniquely her own, and her phrasing is a harbinger of her odd line readings in her later films. In a hillbilly number, “Purple Rose,” she’s game but uneasy and not very funny, yet she’s touching in the torchy “Just Like a Man.” Since her only subsequent musical was the ill-fated, unrecorded Miss Moffatt, the Two’s Company album is a fascinating footnote to a long, magnificently uneven career. — Richard Barrios

Original Broadway Cast, 1951 (Decca/MCA) (5 / 5) How does a recording of a second-rank show become an irreplaceable treasure? Here’s how: By 1951, the big-star Broadway revue was beginning to gather up its stars and skits for a finale, largely due to competition from television variety shows. Nevertheless, Betty Comden and Adolph Green still had a few satirical tricks up their sleeves. In collaboration with composer Jule Styne, they came up with a smart throwback to the days of headliner-packed revues, and that’s where Two on the Aisle shone most brightly, in that it starred Broadway’s premier clown and one of the greatest singers ever to set foot on a stage. Nor were their tasks circumscribed, for Bert Lahr could sing (in a unique fashion) and Dolores Gray was an ace comedienne. There were also supporting actors, none of them too impressive, and a rather gruesome pair of singing lovers. Fortunately, the cast album focuses on Lahr and Gray in both musical and comedic modes, without conveying their well-documented backstage feud. All here is golden, or close to it: Lahr’s mock-Pagliacci ode to “The Clown”; the chorus’s “Show Train,” an amusing précis of then-current stage hits; and Lahr and Gray as a vaudeville team invading the Metropolitan Opera (“You’ll be Lucia,” he blusters, “and I’ll be Sextet”). Gray is sensational, her songs perfectly tailored to her fabulous singing — intimate yet volcanic, funny, sexy, and so technically accomplished (with that precise diction) that lieder recitalists should study it. Gray’s performance of “If (You Hadn’t but You Did)” alone earns her a place in the Broadway pantheon. — Richard Barrios

Original Broadway Cast, 1971 (Decca) (3 / 5) When you listen to the original cast recording of Two Gentlemen of Verona, you’ll know why this show won the 1972 Tony Award for Best Musical but not for Best Score. Even though the score, by composer Galt MacDermot and lyricist John Guare, is hopelessly locked into the 1970s, the album is an enjoyable listen; it captures a show of tremendous youth, vivacity, and edge, a unique mixture of Shakespeare and rock. The result is a century-spanning musical party. Sure, there are some duds, such as “Thurio’s Samba,” in which swear words and vulgarities are rhymed with nonsense syllables. But the standouts — “Summer, Summer,” “I Love My Father,” “Night Letter,” “Hot Lover,” and the finale — are quite a bit of fun. A fine cast helps: the one-and-only Raul Julia, Clifton Davis, Diana Davila, and Jonelle Allen, all of whom sound as if they’ve having the time of their lives. — Matthew Murray

Original Broadway Cast, 1970 (Columbia/Sony) (3 / 5) With music by Richard Rodgers, lyrics by Martin Charnin, and a book by Peter Stone, Two by Two is an adaptation of Clifford Odets’ play The Flowering Peach. The show became notorious for the onstage antics of its star, Danny Kaye, who turned the whole thing into an unruly vaudeville act when he resorted to performing the role of Noah in a wheelchair after tearing a ligament. None of his bad behavior need be suffered on the cast album, although showpieces like “Ninety Again!” and “You Have Got to Have a Rudder on the Ark” do reveal a self-indulgent star. Get past that and you’ll hear mostly excellent, late-career Rodgers; the master infuses ballads like “I Do Not Know a Day I Did Not Love You” and “Something Doesn’t Happen” with his trademark warmth and melodic surprises. Eddie Sauter’s orchestrations have a comfy feel, and Charnin’s lyrics are probably the best of his career, pitched midway between the sentiment of Hammerstein and the dexterity of Hart. The supporting cast is as youthful and exuberant as Kaye is old-school and steeped in shtick: Walter Willison sings out with real Broadway juvenile brio, and Madeline Kahn nails a high C at the end of a vulgar piece of special material. The CD has a brief Act I finale track that’s missing from the LP, and it’s a much better sonic mix.  — Marc Miller

Original Off-Broadway Cast, 1975 (Vanguard/no CD) No stars; not recommended. The dated humor of this revue makes the cast album more of a time capsule than a listening pleasure. Written as a love letter to New York, the score, by composer Hank Beebe and lyricist Bill Heyer, takes lightly satirical swipes at Big Apple attitude (“Everything You Hate Is Right Here,” sung by “Sodom and the Gomorrahs”), nudity in the theater (“Things Were Out”), sex (“Fugue for a Ménage aTrois”), and the dating scene (“Singles Bar”). The archeologically minded will appreciate the two sketches included on the recording, especially the dialogue between a cab driver and an out-of-towner who complains about Broadway theater tickets costing 17 dollars. It’s all very lacking in distinction, although the title tune is rather stirring. Of the three-person cast, only Patti Perkins stands out with her childlike belt. Seventies nostalgists may change the rating above to one star. — David Barbour

Original Broadway Cast, 1997 (JAY) (3 / 5) Pierre Marivaux’s 1722 farce La surprise de l’amour gets a musical workout and an English title, Triumph of Love, thanks to librettist James Magruder, composer Jeffrey Stock, and lyricist Susan Birkenhead. Christopher Sieber is Agis, a young Prince of Sparta, raised by his rationalist Aunt Hesione (Betty Buckley) and Uncle Hermocrates (F. Murray Abraham) to disdain emotional expression and the usurping Princess Leonide (Susan Egan). Naturally, the latter shows up, love blossoms, and complications multiply like rabbits. (This show sets a world’s record for mistaken-identity plot twists.) The narrative is wearying at times — even reading the synopsis in the CD booklet can lead to fatigue — but the songs are accomplished and often enjoyable. Stock has a definite gift for soaring, exciting melodies, orchestrated here by Bruce Coughlin, and Birkenhead’s lyrics are very witty. The best songs are the opener, “This Day of Days,” “Serenity,” and “Issue in Question,” in which Hesione and Agis struggle with feelings of love. “Teach Me Not to Love You” is a notably pretty quartet. The score is less successful when trolling for Broadway laughs via the clown characters played by Nancy Opel, Roger Bart, and Kevin Chamberlin, whose songs include “Mr. Right” and “Henchmen Are Forgotten.” The cast, however, is exemplary. Buckley’s singing is nothing short of heroic, especially in “Serenity” and “If I Cannot Love,” which was cut during previews but is offered here as a bonus track. Sieber and Egan provide sterling vocals, and Abraham is surprisingly effective in “Emotions.” (Note that the melody of “Mr. Right” is by Van Dyke Parks, and that of “Have a Little Faith” is by Michael Kosarin.) — David Barbour

Original Broadway Cast, 1951 (Columbia/Sony) (4 / 5) With its high nostalgia quotient and dream ballet, this adaptation of Betty Smith’s beloved novel — scripted by Smith herself, with George Abbott’s help — may seem more like the work of Rodgers and Hammerstein than that of Arthur Schwartz and Dorothy Fields. Although A Tree Grows in Brooklyn didn’t quite recoup its investment during its eight-month run, the show felt like a hit at the time. And the cast album, produced by Goddard Lieberson with his usual finesse, captures the excitement of recording the score just after the rave reviews came in. Schwartz’s music shows his fine gift for evoking time, place, and mood in his songs, and Fields superbly captures the rough-and-tumble atmosphere of early-20th-century Brooklyn in her lyrics, which are poignant, salty, or hilarious by turns. As the tragic young Nolans, Johnny Johnston and Marcia Van Dyke are a bit on the dull side but are blessed with magnificent material, from his cocky “Mine ‘Til Monday” and “I’m Like a New Broom” to her pensive “Make the Man Love Me” and joyous “Look Who’s Dancing.” As sassy Aunt Cissy, Shirley Booth is occasionally off pitch but otherwise dead on, wringing every drop of bawdiness and poignancy from “He Had Refinement” and “Is That My Prince?” Some abrupt tonal shifts between comedy and tragedy betray the dramaturgical problems that may have contributed to the show not having a longer run, and a hokey hit-song finale fashioned especially for the recording was a mistake. Still, this is an overall excellent preservation of an undersung, affecting score. — Marc Miller

Original Broadway Cast, 1963 (Capitol/Angel) (3 / 5) In its CD and MP3 formats, this cast album is very different from the original LP edition in that, aside from the overture, no song is in the same position as it was on the original. Still, in any medium, Tovarich is a pleasant listen, with a score by composer Lee Pockriss and lyricist Anne Croswell. Film stars Vivien Leigh and Jean Pierre Aumont play the leads, Tatiana and Mikail, two Russian royals who flee to Paris after the revolution and hire themselves out as a butler and a maid. Most of the songs aren’t terribly dramatic, as their titles indicate: “You Love Me,” “The Only One,” “I Know the Feeling,” and “All for You.” But they’re all lovely, and they do have the right feel. Margery Gray and Byron Mitchell as the young adults in the household, who fall in puppy love with their new servants, have two undistinguished but fun songs together. And Mitchell gets to do a Charleston with Leigh in the tuneful paean to “Wilkes-Barre, PA.” — Peter Filichia

Original Cast, 1970 (Ampex/no CD) No stars; not recommended. For years, this seemed the most ubiquitous of all show recordings. It turned up everywhere: at garage sales, school sales, library sales. If you moved into a new apartment, you’d find a copy of Touch in the closet. One has to wonder who on earth bought the thing, but lots of people had to if it ended up in all those places. For the record, this is a sweet-tempered, soft-rock musical, with a score by Jim Crozier and Kenn Long, that got decent notices and had a modest run Off-Broadway. With its environmental and social concerns, the show was certainly well meaning, but its dramaturgy is primitive and its songs are flavorless. There’s very little here to interest musical theater aficionados. — David Wolf

Original Broadway Cast, 1951 (Capitol/DRG) (3 / 5) Some types of comedy date very quickly, and this zany musical expedition into the world of vaudeville comics is an example of that. Still, it’s a wonderful time capsule from the early 1950s, performed by many of the leading comedians of the day. Phil Silvers, Jack Albertson, and Rose Marie joined forces to make Top Banana a solid hit in 1951, and Silvers’ performance won him the 1952 Tony Award for Best Actor in a Musical. While this star vehicle has faded into obscurity, the cast album is a spirited, buoyant tribute to showbiz of another era. The clever songs of the great Johnny Mercer are outstanding; yes, the legendary lyricist also composed the music for this show. The recording is full of gems such as  “I Fought Every Step of the Way,” “A Word a Day,” and others that can still elicit guffaws. — Gerard Alessandrini

Studio Cast, 1977 (Painted Smiles) (2 / 5) The world’s oldest collection of co-eds bops to a lower-drawer score by Richard Rodgers and Lorenz Hart in this Ben Bagley recording of a 1939 hit that hasn’t worn well. Although there are attractive songs sung on the campus of Pottawatomie College, including “I Didn’t Know What Time It Was” and “You’re Nearer” (the latter written for the 1940 film version), they’re undermined by Dennis Deal’s blaring arrangements and one of Bagley’s most indulgent exercises in camp interpretation. The vocal arrangements are subpar, too. As for the singers, undergrad Estelle Parsons croaks “My Prince”; Nancy Andrews injects some pizzazz into the glaringly non-P.C “Spic and Spanish”; Johnny Desmond and Arthur Siegel sing well enough without ever coming anywhere near a character. And Tony Perkins, whose ringing baritenor had surprised everyone in Greenwillow, pretty much whispers his vocals here — not ineptly, but without any special insight. Some of the songs do have the old Rodgers and Hart spirit. One example is the opening number, “Heroes in the Fall,” with lyrics ghost-written by Rodgers for the off-on-a-binge Hart. But many of the others (“She Could Shake the Maracas,” “Cause We Got Cake,” and “Sweethearts of the Team” in an excruciating rendition) sound like pale imitations of the team’s better work. — Marc Miller

Studio Recording, 1969 (MCA) (5 / 5) Originally conceived for presentation on record, this seminal “rock opera” is thrillingly melodic and dramatic. Small wonder that it was subsequently adapted as a film and, later, a Broadway musical. Tommy was mostly composed for The Who by guitarist Pete Townshend, but there is additional material by two other members of that legendary rock band, John Entwistle and Keith Moon. Oddly, the score also includes “Eyesight to the Blind,” a pre-existing song by Sonny Boy Williamson; Townshend presumably added the number because it fits well into this story of a deaf, dumb, and blind boy who becomes world famous as a “Pinball Wizard.” Most of the character Tommy’s songs are performed by Roger Daltrey, who sings beautifully and persuasively. Among the recording’s many highlights are “Amazing Journey,” “Go to the Mirror, Boy,” “I’m Free,” and “Sensation.” — Michael Portantiere

Studio Cast with Symphony Orchestra, 1972 (Ode) (3 / 5) Realizing that Tommy is filled with wonderful melodies that could benefit from symphonic treatment, Lou Reizner produced a complete recording of the score featuring the London Symphony Orchestra and Chambre Choir with soloists Pete Townshend, Roger Daltrey, and John Entwistle of The Who, plus Maggie Bell as the Mother, Steve Winwood as the Father, Ringo Starr as Uncle Ernie, Rod Stewart rasping out “Pinball Wizard,” and Richie Havens singing “Eyesight to the Blind.” Unfortunately, arrangers Wil Malone and James Sullivan threw out the baby with the bathwater, largely obliterating the rock-band sound of the piece with symphonic orchestrations. On top of that, the veddy proper-sounding choir creates an odd impression in numbers like “Pinball Wizard” and “We’re Not Gonna Take It,” as if they were recording Handel’s Messiah rather than a seminal rock opera. Among the most successful cuts on the album are “It’s a Boy” and “Amazing Journey,” if only because they retain something of an authentic rock sound. — M.P.

Film Soundtrack, 1975 (Polydor, 2CDs) (2 / 5) This recording has several things to recommend it: Roger Daltrey, at the peak of his vocal powers, is back again in the title role; The Who’s drummer, Keith Moon, does a fine job in the role of Uncle Ernie; and the rest of the band members make cameo appearances in the “Pinball Wizard” sequence and elsewhere. Ann-Margret sings well as Tommy’s mother (here called Nora), even if she sometimes over-emotes. The starry supporting cast includes Elton John (“Pinball Wizard”) and Eric Clapton (“Eyesight to the Blind”). On top of all this, the one-and-only Tina Turner is the definitive Acid Queen. But the album has two big strikes against it: The unrelenting deployment of synthesizers in the arrangements actually makes the score sound more dated than it does on The Who’s original recording, and Oliver Reed sings very poorly in the major role of Tommy’s mother’s lover. Legend has it that Jack Nicholson, having been cast in the film in the small role of the Doctor, was nervous about his singing ability, but when he heard Reed’s pre-recordings, he relaxed. It’s easy to understand why. — M.P.

Original Broadway Cast, 1993 (RCA, 2CDs) (3 / 5) It wasn’t until almost a quarter-century after the release of The Who’s original recording of Tommy that the piece was finally adapted as a full-fledged stage musical. The resulting show had a lot going for it, as does the cast album, produced by the legendary George Martin. Michael Cerveris is persuasive in the title role, complete with a convincing if somewhat aggressive British accent. As Tommy’s mother and father, Marcia Mitzman and Jonathan Dokuchitz also sound credibly British. The three leads sing spectacularly well, and sharply etched supporting performances are turned in by Paul Kandel as Uncle Ernie and Anthony Barrile as Cousin Kevin. The musical adaptation pays homage to the original album while adding a theatrical flair; the addition of orchestrations to the basic rock-band sound is more successful here than on the 1972 symphonic recording. (Steve Margoshes is credited with the orchestrations, while Joseph Church is listed as musical supervisor and director.) Director Des McAnuff oversaw a production that was praiseworthy in many respects. In fact, the show’s only major flaw was that Pete Townshend rewrote two key sections of the opera for no good reason. First, while Cheryl Freeman as the Gypsy does a fine job with the “Acid Queen” number, the song is strangely reconceived so that this drug-addicted prostitute sings about what she’s going to do to Tommy but never actually does it. Much worse, Townshend futzed with the ending of the piece in a way that completely contradicts the original point. In all previous versions of Tommy, the title character becomes the leader of a quasi-religious cult, and his followers turn against him when they realize that he’s attempting to control their minds; in this version, Tommy’s acolytes rebel because he tells them they should think for themselves! — M.P.

Original Broadway Cast, 1997 (RCA) (5 / 5) You’ll be hard-pressed to find more beautiful choral singing than that heard on the cast album of Titanic, the musical about the sinking of that famed “ship of dreams.” Composer-lyricist Maury Yeston’s score is grand and sweeping, and more than 40 voices are employed to represent the Irish peasants, middle-class professionals, wealthy society types, et al. aboard the doomed vessel. For this clash of classes, Yeston offers a suitable variety of music, from the stunning, operatic opening sequence to some Celtic-tinged tunes. A rag number and Yeston’s own lovely version of “Autumn” — supposedly one of the last songs played by the musicians on deck as the ship went down — give the score a sense of time and place, while Jonathan Tunick’s lush orchestrations evoke the feelings of adventure, hope, and loss that the disaster still inspires; you can hear the growl of an angry ocean in the overture, and you can see the black night described by a sailor in the haunting “No Moon.” Yeston shows remarkable theatricality and innovation throughout the score, notably in two sequences: “The Blame,” a heated colloquy sung by the ship’s owner, builder, and captain; and “Mr. Andrews’ Vision,” in which the horror-struck ship builder foresees the ship’s chilling final moments. All of the lyrics are strong, and Yeston is fortunate that Michael Cerveris, Brian d’Arcy James, David Garrison, John Cunningham, Victoria Clark, and a superlative cast of actor/singers preserved his words and music for this recording. — Brooke Pierce