New York Concert Cast, 1998 (New World, 2CDs) (4 / 5) Enchanting piffle from 1925, Tip-Toes has a funny Fred Thompson-Guy Bolton book, a dancey Gershwin score, and an insuperable cast in this Carnegie Hall concert performance. The orchestral materials, as Rob Fisher relates in his liner notes, were in good shape except for the Arden and Ohlman dual-piano parts; Joseph Thalken and John Musto recreate these spectacularly. Fisher’s orchestra sounds just a tad underpopulated, and the conductor might have picked up the pace of such songs as “When Do We Dance?” and “Sweet and Low-Down.” The chorus is on the thin side, too, with just eight voices. But what a darling song collection this is — big on George Gershwin syncopation, blue-note harmonies, and lightly satirical Ira Gershwin lyrics. The cast members perform in perfect period style, and with total conviction. Emily Loesser is an ideal Jazz Age heroine, her light soprano caressing “Looking for a Boy” with great affection, and Andy Taylor is a young hero right out of a John Held, Jr. cartoon. Principal comics Lewis J. Stadlen and Lee Wilkof winningly sock across the silly jokes and puns, and enough dialogue is included to give you an idea of the book. This is a lighter, simpler show than other Gershwin gems — so patently innocent that, at one point, the hero and heroine sing to each other, “Goody-goody-goodnight, sleep tight.” But the charm never curdles, it just charms. (Note: Also included on this two-CD set is the score of the Gershwins’ Tell Me More.) — Marc Miller

Original Broadway Cast, 1980 (DRG) (3 / 5) Allegedly, this was the first-ever digitally recorded cast album. A cavalcade of early-20th-century Americana, Tintypes sounds splendid here as its five-member cast and small band run through several dozen period songs — some classic, some virtually forgotten — in witty arrangements by Mel Marvin. Unlike so many other revues, the show has a real arc, and the songs comment wonderfully on themselves; for instance, “Toyland” becomes an anthem about America’s lost innocence, and “I Want What I Want When I Want It” is sung by a bellicose Teddy Roosevelt. Hearing “The Stars and Stripes Forever” or “Meet Me in St. Louis” for the zillionth time isn’t so thrilling, but trivialities like “Electricity” and “Teddy Da Roose” are well worth a listen, especially as rendered by this talented quintet: The fine character actor Trey Wilson and the elegant soprano Carolyn Mignini play the elites; the funny Mary Catherine Wright and the pre-directorial Jerry Zaks embody the downtrodden immigrant masses; and Lynne Thigpen is a marvel in everything she does. As Anna Held’s maid (it’s complicated, but the well-edited album supplies a context), Thigpen slowly builds the old Bert Williams favorite “Nobody” to a shattering finish. Wisely, this was the Act I finale; nobody in his or her right mind would have followed it. — Marc Miller

Original Broadway Cast, 1966 (Warner Bros./no CD) (3 / 5) Based on Richard Llewellyn’s popular book How Green Was My Valley, which inspired the acclaimed 1941 movie of the same title, A Time for Singing deals with the grim lives of Welsh coal miners. The John Morris-Gerald Freedman score surely sings out their tale, right from the a cappella opening to the tragic finale. The choral work is ample and terrific throughout, and leading man Ivor Emmanuel’s Welsh baritone is overpowering. Morris’s harmonies are not standard-issue Broadway; they’re wrapped up in evocative Don Walker orchestrations, and several ballads (“That’s What Young Ladies Do,” “There Is Beautiful You Are,” “Let Me Love You”) deserve rediscovery. What seems to have killed the show more than anything else is the casting. Shani Wallis is a simpering leading lady, while Tessie O’Shea and Laurence Naismith are far too old to be convincing as the parents of eight-year-old Huw (Frank Griso, an irritating child actor). Elizabeth Hubbard and an up-and-coming George Hearn are wasted in supporting roles. Also, the score goes conventional just when it needs to offer something special, as in Wallis’s “When He Looks at Me” or the wimpy title tune. Still, this deeply felt neo-operetta doesn’t deserve the obscurity it has suffered for decades, and its great ensemble work is all over the cast album.  — Marc Miller

Original Off-Broadway Cast, 2001 (RCA) (3 / 5) This minor but appealing Off-Broadway effort was adapted by playwright David Auburn from a semi-autobiographical, one-person show that had been written and performed by songwriter Jonathan Larson. It also incorporates material from an unproduced Larson project titled Superbia. Arguably, the show’s main weakness is that some audiences may find it a little hard to care very deeply about the angst suffered by an unsuccessful musical theater songwriter as he approaches age 30. But there are many mitigating factors, not the least of which is one’s knowledge that Larson would die unexpectedly a few years later. The show and the cast album also provided an early showcase for the brilliant singing actor Raúl Esparza. Equally effective are Amy Spanger as Jon’s increasingly fed-up lover, Susan, and Jerry Dixon as his best friend, Michael, who has given up bohemia for business and who harbors a heartbreaking secret. Then there are the songs, which confirm Larson’s thrilling talent. They include the touching trio “Johnny Can’t Decide”; the witty “Sunday,” a number about working in a diner that’s also a parody of a certain Stephen Sondheim ballad; and the fervent “Come to Your Senses.” The impassioned finale “Louder Than Words,” with its wounded idealism, is excellent. A moving bonus track features Larson himself singing a cut number, “Boho Days.” — David Barbour

Film Soundtrack, 2020 (Masterworks) (5 / 5) Lin-Manuel Miranda’s film version of tick, tick…BOOM! is a triumph. Steven Levenson’s screenplay deftly expands the three-person stage piece into a large-cast feature film while referencing its solo-show origins. Thus, we see Jonathan Larson (Andrew Garfield, in a stunning, out-of-left-field performance) onstage at New York Theatre Workshop, providing running commentary and cueing several numbers, backed up by Joshua Henry and Vanessa Hudgens. From the score’s first jittery piano chords, we are in masterful hands. Garfield, his voice reedy and soulful in quiet moments and gutsy where it counts, delivers full-throttle renditions of the panic-stricken “30/90” the ruminative “Why,” and “Louder Than Words,” arguably Larson’s finest number. As Michael, Robin de Jesús provides fine sardonic contrast, kvelling over his posh new apartment in “No More” and confronting his mortality in “Real Life.” As Susan, Alexandra Shipp shares her character’s big number with Hudgens, their voices coming together gorgeously in “Come to Your Senses.” The luxuriously cast Henry buttresses every number with his lustrous vocals. And even without the listener to this album being able to see the uproarious parade of cameos in the film’s “Sunday” sequence — “There’s Chita! There’s Bernadette! There’s Daphne Rubin-Vega!” — the song is a triumph, a wicked bit of self-mockery folded into a loving parody of a signature Stephen Sondheim anthem. The tune stack varies from the stage version in certain respects, beginning with the song order: “Boho Days,” heard as an extra on the 2001 CD, is now integrated into a party scene, while “Green Green Dress” has been moved to the final credits, and the the tender ballad “See Her Smile” has been cut entirely. Bits of Larson’s Superbia heard in the film are not to be found here, but several numbers cut from early versions of tick, tick…BOOM! have been interpolated, including “Play Game” (a rap commentary on Broadway commercialism, delivered by Tariq Trotter of the hip-hop group The Roots) and “Swimming” (in which Larson hits a pool while fretting about his problems). Among the bonus tracks are a pop cover of “Come to Your Senses” by R&B singer Jazmine Sullivan; the disco-tastic “Out of My Dreams,” by dance-music diva Victoria Jackson; and “Only Takes a Few” by the indie folk group The Mountain Goats. (It would be interesting to know the provenance of these numbers, all credited to Larson.) A heartfelt tribute from one young musical theater master to another, the film and the recording are musts. — D.B.

Studio Cast, 2001 (PS Classics) (2 / 5) Hats off to PS Classics for issuing the premiere recording of this interesting curio, a 1931 Vincent Youmans flop — and hats back on for their having made such a muddle of it. Not that the material, adapted from the old stage weepie Smilin’ Through, isn’t tricky, with its confusing, multi-generational love story and subsidiary comic romance. Youmans seems to have written two scores for the two stories: one long-lined and elegant, the other standard musical comedy, both melodically and harmonically beguiling. But, instead of the original orchestrations, the recording presents a soupy reduction by conductor Aaron Gandy, played by a 12-piece group that sounds like the Mantovani Chamber Ensemble. Leading lady Heidi Grant Murphy, much admired in opera, is flat-out dull here, while leading man Philip Chaffin ably navigates Youmans’ melodic leaps without sounding much engaged. Even the usually impeccable Brent Barrett is droopy, although he does come to life in “How Happy Is the Bride,” a tricky Youmans melody saddled with awkward Edward Heyman lyrics. The best work comes from the real-life couple Hunter Foster and Jennifer Cody, who handle the lighter pieces with a fine understanding of 1930s style. Snatches of dialogue evoke what must have been a long evening of romantic entanglements punctuated by some pretty Youmans melodies. — Marc Miller

Original Cast, 2004 (Original Cast Records) (4 / 5) In musicalizing the true story of Nathan Leopold and Richard Loeb, who murdered a boy in 1924 Chicago, composer-lyricist-librettist Stephen Dolginoff didn’t attempt to replicate the Chicago method of dealing with such difficult and disturbing subject matter. Instead, he eschewed the splashy and comic, and he wrote a taut, chamber-musical character study that became a sold-out hit in the 2003 Midtown International Theatre Festival. The cast recording omits a few songs and lots of dialogue, but it preserves the work’s uncompromising intensity and perfectly integrated score. Christopher Totten handles Leopold’s material very well; he gives the soul-searching “Way Too Far” a beautiful rendition, and his “Thrill Me” is provocative. Matthew S. Morris imbues Loeb with a desperate arrogance and is outstanding in the show’s most memorable song, “Roadster,” in which Loeb lures his victim into his clutches. Dolginoff depicts the murderers as sparring, codependent lovers, and Leopold’s gradual transformation from a passive figure to a power player comes across well on the recording. Accompanied only by Gabriel Kahane on piano, Morris’s and Totten’s voices blend smoothly. Just try listening to the climactic number “Life Plus 99 Years” without getting the chills. — Matthew Murray

Original Broadway Cast, 1952 (Capitol/Angel) (2 / 5) The singing on this recording of a misfire by Abe Burrows and Ralph Blane is so gorgeous that you’ll forgive Blane’s score for being less than riveting. Based on a Charles O’Neal novel, Three Wishes for Jamie is a nouveau operetta about a romantic Irishman who emigrates to Georgia in 1896, marries the girl of his dreams, and adopts a Gaelic-speaking son; those, after all, are his three wishes. Fortunately, the Irishman is John Raitt, and as soon as his voice soars above the staff in “The Girl That I Court in My Mind,” you know that this cast album will be more than listenable. Anne Jeffreys, in splendid voice, has even better chances: a lazy ballad titled “My Home’s a Highway,” and a sad soliloquy with intriguing harmonies, “What Do I Know?” Also on hand are Charlotte Rae as a frump, delicious in a showy piece of special material, and Bert Wheeler, who’s rather tiresome here. Working minus Hugh Martin, Blane produced pedestrian lyrics but often lilting music, especially as orchestrated by Robert Russell Bennett. The Irish blarney gets pretty thick, the story hasn’t much fire, and songs like “It’s a Wishing World” are time-passers. But as long as Raitt and Jeffreys are singing, it all passes pleasantly. — Marc Miller

Original Off-Broadway Cast, 1954 (MGM/Decca) (5 / 5) This is the Carmen Capalbo production that helped put Off-Broadway on the map. One of the most important musical theater works of the 20th century, The Threepenny Opera is Marc Blitzstein’s translation of Die Dreigroschenoper, as it was titled in Germany. (Several recordings of the original German language version are available.) The powerful score is sung here by Jo Sullivan, Scott Merrill, Beatrice Arthur, Charlotte Rae, Martin Wolfson, Paul Dooley, and the one-and-only Lotte Lenya. The story, lifted freely from John Gay’s The Beggar’s Opera, concerns the ruthless Mack the Knife, his doxies, and the Peachum family, headed by Mr. Peachum, who makes tattered costumes guaranteed to garner beggars a solid income. When Kurt Weill spewed the score, he hadn’t yet begun to smooth the corners of his oom-pah-pah melodies; meanwhile, his collaborator Bertolt Brecht had honed his cynicism so that it cut as cleanly as Mack’s signature weapon. Lenya doesn’t sing much, but what she does utter our of the corner of her mouth includes the vengefully triumphant “Pirate Jenny” and “The Solomon Song.” She may also be heard with Merrill in the “Tango-Ballade” duet, and the Decca CD edition of this recording offers Lenya in a bonus track: her rendition of “Mack the Knife,” with Blitzstein on piano, taken from “an unidentified source.” Is any more reason needed to own this disc? Beatrice Arthur knocks the “Barbara Song” around, Jo Sullivan is perfect as the innocent/tarnished Polly, and Charlotte Rae is terrific as the tough Mrs. Peachum. — David Finkle

Broadway Cast, 1976 (Columbia/Masterworks Broadway) (4 / 5) Not unlike Show Boat and Porgy and Bess, to cite two other famous examples, The Threepenny Opera may have an official version, but does anyone know what it is?  Certainly, people like Richard Foreman, who directed this still-talked-about revival at Lincoln Center’s Vivian Beaumont Theatre, have felt no compunction about taking major liberties with the show; they have freely rearranged the Kurt Weill-Bertolt Brecht song order, and have turned to various translators and adapters to do what they will with Brecht’s libretto. Here, the cast sings words by Ralph Manheim and John Willett. Too much of the time, sorry to say, those words are set more awkwardly on the notes than Brecht might have approved. (Did keeper-of-the-flame Lotte Lenya not speak up?) The cast, attempting to make fluid sense of the lyrics, fares well throughout. Raul Julia may sound less like a typical English criminal than a fellow with a Hispanic background, but he does impress as a bloke whose knife flashes quickly. The supporting cast members include some of the best talent available at the time. Maybe the most surprising is Ellen Greene, heard here before she put herself on the theater map in Little Shop of Horrors; she sings “Pirate Jenny” with glee and vengeance oozing from every note. Other standouts are Caroline Kava as the once-innocent Polly Peachum and Blair Brown as Lucy Brown. Kava sings “Barbara-Song,” bringing out the disillusion that infiltrates the young woman’s optimistic philosophy, and she joins Brown in the ironic catfight “Liebeslied.” Perhaps the most notable feature of this Threepenny Opera is how strikingly it’s conducted by Stanley Silverman, who wields a properly unforgiving baton. — D.F.

London Cast, 1994 (JAY) (3 / 5) No way to know for sure without scoping every Threepenny Opera recording known to humankind, but there are those who say this is the most scatological version ever. Jeremy Sams, who directed the Donmar Warehouse production, is responsible for the lyrics, with the translation/adaptation of the book credited to Robert David MacDonald. What surely can be said of the result as heard on the cast album is that anyone who prizes English propriety is in for audible shock after shock. Of course, John Gay’s Beggar’s Opera (1728) is the Threepenny Opera inspiration, and Gay was writing at a time when Newgate Prison banter had a big influence on English vocabulary and expression. That sort of thing is abundantly present here in a liberal employment of various words that family newspapers don’t consider printable. (There are also contemporary references to the likes of Marks & Spencer.) Moreover, Sams may be the only lyricist who has rhymed “foreigner” with “coroner.” The cast is little recognized internationally, and as is often the case with British productions of musicals, they seem to have been selected primarily for their acting prowess. Nevertheless, the singing is fine. In the role of Macheath — a.k.a. Mack the Knife — we have Tom Hollander, one of England’s best actors for several decades, who slashingly delivers all the character’s razor-sharp declarations. This version of the show includes both “Pirate Jenny” and “Barbara Song” in that order, which isn’t the way it’s always done, and even more unusually, Jenny (Tara Hugo) sings what’s now familiar as “Mack the Knife.” (Prior to the chart-topping Bobby Darin recording, it was commonly called the “Moritat.”) More traditionally, Polly (Sharon Small) sings ”Pirate Jenny.”  Musical director Gary Yershon gives the orchestrations lighter readings than others have done. — D.F.

Original Off-Broadway Cast, 1985 (Polygram/JAY) (2 / 5) This three-character musical about the rise and ultimate dissolution of a gifted trio of young comedians has one big problem in that it’s never funny enough. Still, the story holds, supported by a peculiar and distinctive set of songs written in a jazz-rock fusion idiom. The music, by Michael Rupert, is always arresting if not terribly melodic, and it’s bolstered considerably by Michael Starobin’s orchestrations. The characters’ introductory songs are the most satisfactory: “Promise of Greatness” (sung by Scott Bakula) and “Angry Guy” (sung by Jerry Colker). “Operator” sets up the third comic (played by John Kassir), who is the real genius of the group; he becomes more unbalanced as the show unfolds, and he ultimately commits suicide. You may have trouble comprehending some of the lyrics, which often sound more like they were crafted for rock songs rather than theater songs. — David Wolf

Original Cast, 2000 (DRG) (4 / 5) It would be a wonderful thing if more full-length musicals could be as melodic and charming as 3hree, the triumvirate of one-act works that director Harold Prince put together to great acclaim in Philadelphia. Each mini-musical was penned by a different team of up-and-coming young talents. Composer Laurence O’Keefe, lyricist Nell Benjamin, and librettist Julia Jordan wrote the first and most satisfying piece, the darkly comic “The Mice.” It features John Scherer as an exterminator who goes to extreme measures to escape his shrewish wife, played by the delightfully evil Jessica Molaskey. Less impressive overall is the show’s middle section, the ghostly love story “Lavender Girl,” but songwriter John Bucchino’s talent is evident here, notably in the pretty waltz “Dancing.” 3hree‘s showcase piece, “Flight of the Lawn Chair Man,” is based on the true story of a man who soared into the sky on a lawn chair lifted by toy balloons. Songwriter Robert Lindsey Nassif and book writer Peter Ullian’s fanciful work brings Leonardo DaVinci and Charles Lindbergh into the action for comic touches, but it’s in the score’s ballads that Nassif really shines. Christopher Fitzgerald and Donna Lynne Champlin perform “Tiny” and “The Air Is Free” with great sensitivity and great power, respectively. — Brooke Pierce

Original Broadway Cast, 2001 (Swing Music) (1 / 5) In theory, it was an inspired idea to have Harry Connick, Jr. write the score for this Susan Stroman-David Thompson adaptation of Thérèse Raquin, Émile Zola’s tale of love, crime, and guilt. Since the steamy French narrative was to be transplanted to New Orleans, Connick, who was born and raised there and has a command of the city’s indigenous musical idioms, seemed the ideal choice for the project. In practice, however, that choice proved less than ideal. Almost none of the music heard on this hour-plus recording is spicy; most of it is pallid. But the blame for this shouldn’t be pasted on Connick exclusively, as he had Thompson’s inept libretto to work with, and he also had to suffer two miscast leading players interpreting his work. As Therese and her illicit lover, Laurent, Kate Levering and Craig Bierko are as passionate as two glasses of tepid tap water. Norbert Leo Butz, as Therese’s doomed hubby, Camille, delivers two songs that do have a little something extra: the reprise of “It’s Good to Be Home” and “Tug Boat” (Levering duets on the latter). Debra Monk, as Camille’s mother, gets to warble a couple of forgettable Connick tunes. No one who listens to Thou Shalt Not once will want to listen twice. — David Finkle

Film Soundtrack, 1967 (Decca/MCA) (1 / 5) There’s no explanation for this bizarre camp exercise, which was designed to spoof the 1920s. Julie Andrews and Mary Tyler Moore play flappers seeking their fortunes in the big city, unaware that their hotel is a front for a kidnapping ring run by white-slavers led by Beatrice Lillie (absent on the soundtrack recording, because she doesn’t sing a note in the film). Carol Channing sings “Do It Again” while being shot out of a cannon, and Andrews performs something called the “Jewish Wedding Song.” Thoroughly Modern Millie is barely a musical; it’s just a mishmash of a few old and new numbers scattered about. The album is padded with a lengthy overture, an intermission medley, exit music, and two cuts of the admittedly catchy title tune by James Van Heusen and Sammy Cahn. The ballad “Jimmy,” by Jay Thompson, is also quite good. After that, you’re on your own. Love interest James Fox can be heard talking but not singing (he was dubbed by Jim Bryant) in the Van Heusen-Cahn dance number “The Tapioca.” Channing’s rendition of “Jazz Baby” has probably been studied by drag queens around the globe, and that “Jewish Wedding Song” is beyond description; if they ever do a film remake of Fiddler on the Roof, don’t expect Andrews to turn up as Golde. — David Barbour

Original Broadway Cast, 2002 (RCA) (1 / 5) This show is faux-’20s, faux-camp, faux-everything. The book by Richard Morris (screenwriter of the film version) and Dick Scanlan focuses on the innocent Millie, played by Sutton Foster, whose steely belt and lack of warmth are major debits. Arriving in Manhattan from Kansas, Millie is determined to be “modern” and to find herself a rich husband. Instead, she’s chased by the feckless Jimmy (Gavin Creel) and menaced by the faux-Oriental white-slaver Mrs. Meers (Harriet Harris). The stage score includes “Jimmy” and the title song from the film, plus about 10 new songs (by Scanlan and composer Jeanine Tesori) and borrowings from other sources. Less-than-scintillating comedic turns include a rendition of “Mammy” in Chinese and lovers who burst into “Ah! Sweet Mystery of Life.” Harris wrestles with “They Don’t Know,” one of the flattest comedy numbers in years. Creel gets better songs, including the jazzy “What Do I Need With Love?” and the enjoyable “I Turned the Corner.” Sheryl Lee Ralph, in a rewritten version of the Channing role, sings the clinker “Only in New York” and the catchy “Long as I’m Here With You.” The production number “Forget About the Boy,” in which Millie renounces men, is toe-tapping fun; but Angela Christian and Marc Kudisch, as Millie’s best friend and boss, have to contend with lackluster material. The orchestrations, by Doug Besterman and Ralph Burns, often oversell the songs, particularly in the pumped-up 11-o’clocker “Girnme Gimme.” — D.B.

Original Broadway Cast, 1942 (Decca) (2 / 5) Shortly after the start of World War II, Irving Berlin created a new version of his World War I revue Yip! Yip! Yaphank. The resulting show, This Is the Army, was incredibly successful: It played to turn-away business on Broadway before traveling the country, serving as the basis of a Hollywood film, and then touring cities and army bases all over the world for the duration of the war. All proceeds from ticket sales, music royalties, movie profits — about $10 million in all — were donated to the Army Emergency Relief Fund. But as acclaimed as the show was onstage, it simply doesn’t come across on the cast recording. There are nine songs here, and the best of them are the two that have become standards: “This Is the Army, Mr. Jones” and “Oh, How I Hate to Get Up in the Morning,” the latter sung by Berlin himself. Other songs, including the attractive “I’m Getting Tired So I Can Sleep,” are performed so squarely that they seem nearly comical. To fill out its CD release of the album, Decca included the original cast recordings of songs from Harold Rome’s returning-G.!. revue Call Me Mister (which are fun) and four choral selections from Moss Hart’s Air Force drama Winged Victory (which are not). — David Wolf

Original Off-Broadway Cast, 2004 (DRG) (3 / 5) A sort of musical fairy tale for adults, The Thing About Men is based on Doris Dorrie’s German film Männer. It shows us what happens when a philandering advertising executive (Marc Kudisch) becomes the roommate of the bohemian artist (Ron Bohmer) with whom his wife (Leah Hocking) is having an affair. With music by Jimmy Roberts and lyrics and book by Joe DiPietro, the show is an ingenious marriage of uptown and downtown sensibilities. The first act finale, “Downtown Bohemian Slum,” brings a breathless theatrical excitement to the recording. The good date/bad date songs “Me, Too” and “One-Woman Man” are comic highlights, thanks to the performances ofJennifer Simard and Daniel Reichard, who function as an all-purpose ensemble. There are also some introspective songs: “Take Me Into You,” “The Greatest Friend,” and “The Better Man Won.” The opening and closing numbers, with clever orchestrations by Bruce Coughlin, are good examples of the score’s unique musical language. Hocking gets the best song of all, “Because.” — Matthew Murray

Original Broadway Cast, 1978 (Casablanca) (2 / 5) Neil Simon based his book for They’re Playing Our Song on the real-life relationship of the show’s composer and lyricist, Marvin Hamlisch and Carole Bayer Sager. The result was a hit musical with catchy, pop-oriented tunes for the leading characters, Vernon and Sonia, and their alter egos — three boys for him, three girls for her. Robert Klein and Lucie Arnaz, who created the roles on Broadway, must have been better onstage than they are on this recording. Here, Klein is mannered and lacks a strong singing voice; his pseudo-pop sound doesn’t put the songs across. Arnaz’s vocals are scratchy and short on vulnerability. Still, the energy of this recording is unquestionable. Conductor Larry Blank and the back-up vocalists are first-rate. There is almost no dialogue to put the songs in context, but the score contains some solid numbers. Both Vernon’s and Sonia’s versions of the title song are witty, and they also have their own separate versions of the introspective “If He Really Knew Me.” “Fallin’ ” is presented as one of Vernon’s hit compositions, while the strong ballad “I Still Believe in Love” is his collaboration with Sonia. Another nice song of Sonia’s is “Just for Tonight.” — Jeffrey Dunn

Original London Cast, 1980 (Chopper/TER-JAY) (4 / 5) It’s hard to define just why this recording is so far superior to the original. Tom Conti is primarily a non-musical actor, and Gemma Craven is better known as a soprano than a belter, but the two use all of their acting and vocal abilities to create fully realized characters. So, even though the London recording contains no more dialogue than the Broadway album, it’s far more theatrical. Conti immediately captures us with his touching performance of “Fallin’.” He and Craven deliver their respective versions of the title song with wonderful abandon, and the fact that their sensitive performances of “If He/She Really Knew Me” are programmed on the album as they are in the show only enhances their impact. Especially noteworthy here is the performance of “I Still Believe in Love”; this is supposedly the last song that Vernon and Sonia wrote before their breakup, and you can really hear that in Craven’s voice. The six alter egos are fine, and the orchestra sounds very good, but Craven and Conti are what make this disc spin. — J.D.

Original Australian Cast, 1980 (Festival Records) (2 / 5) They’re Playing Our Song became an international hit: Germany, Italy, Hungary, Austria, Mexico, Holland, and Australia all found the show to be a fine star vehicle. Down Under, Vernon and Sonia were played by John Waters (an Australian film actor, not the American film director!) and Jacki Weaver (an Aussie TV star). Neither of them is an accomplished vocalists, but both are excellent actors, and their charms do come across on this recording. The alter egos here are very strong singers, perhaps to compensate for the fact that the leads are not. Overall, the performance is spirited and more than pleasant. — J.D.

Original Broadway Cast, 1949 (Decca) (3 / 5) Although it is now forgotten, this mild satire on Texas politics ran out the season, and a near-hit song or two came out of its score by composer Robert Emmett Dolan and lyricist Johnny Mercer. Originally released on 78s that preserved only about half of the score, the Texas Li’l Darlin’ cast album is a delectable time warp, transporting listeners to a bustling Broadway that was the Hit Parade’s primary source. “A Month of Sundays” is as typical as a 1949 ballad can get, with a pleasant melody and an all-purpose Mercer lyric; but “Hootin’ Owl Trail” is a real rediscovery, an irresistible easy-listener. So is “Affable, Balding Me,” a duet for Mary Hatcher, a spirited ingenue with a sweet soprano, and her suitor Fredd Wayne, who woos her with lyrics from Mercer’s top drawer. The lyrics of “Politics” are just as wonderful, filled with infectious rhymes such as “sonnets,” “bluebonnets,” and “Kostelanetz.” The no-name cast does very well with the material, which is paired with songs from the soundtrack of the film You Can’t Run Away From It on Decca’s CD. — Marc Miller

Original Broadway Cast, 1960 (Capitol/Angel) (4 / 5) It all starts with a marvelous opéra bouffe-style overture that sets the tone perfectly for this tale of the Tenderloin, New York’s most notorious neighborhood during the final decade of the 19th century. The area’s low-life denizens and a preacher determined to get rid of them are at the heart of the story, which unfolds excitingly through Jerry Bock’s music and Sheldon Harnick’s lyrics. From the rollicking “Little Old New York” and the wise “Reform,” sung by the ladies of the evening, to the luscious art song “Artificial Flowers” to the ragtime “Picture of Happiness” to some brilliantly constructed musical scenes, Tenderloin boasts one of the team’s top scores. The only problems with the original cast album are the two leading men: Maurice Evans gives a one-note performance as the preacher bent on banishing vice and corruption, and Ron Husmann as a scandal-sheet journalist has an arch singing style that displays no personality whatever. — Peter Filichia

Encores! Concert Cast, 2000 (DRG) (5 / 5) This is one of the rare revival cast albums that’s better than the original. It offers crisper performances and sound, as though the singers had been recorded closer to the microphones. In the role of Tommy Howatt, Patrick Wilson has a much more freewheeling style than Ron Husmann, especially in “Picture of Happiness,” and a reprise of that terrific song adds to the fun of the recording. David Ogden Stiers comes across as a sincere preacher rather than the judgmental one portrayed by Maurice Evans of the Broadway cast. Another plus is the inclusion of introductory dialogue for many of the songs, none of which may be found on the original album. — P.F.

Studio Cast, 1998 (New World, 2CDs) (3 / 5) This was one of the Gershwins’ middling, mid-1920s musicals, chock-a-block with mistaken identities, society marriages, and principal comics delivering numbers like “In Sardinia on the Delicatessen.” The Ira Gershwin-Buddy DeSylva lyrics are lighthearted and expert. With Tommy Krasker producing, Rob Fisher conducting, and Russell Warner orchestrating, George Gershwin’s melodies are in safe hands here, even if the orchestra of seven can’t capture the lush 1920s sound that’s called for. But the score is hardly the supreme achievement of the Gershwins in their Jazz Age phase; the outstanding numbers are “Kickin’ the Clouds Away” and the lilting “Love Is in the Air,” yet the hoped-for-hit ballad “Why Do I Love You?” sank so quickly that, two years later, Jerome Kern and Oscar Hammerstein could appropriate the title for one of their Show Boat songs with no fear of confusion. In a high-profile cast, comic-relief guy David Garrison is given more material than such roles usually command, and he’s terrific throughout. But stalwarts Christine Ebersole and Patrick Cassidy are underutilized, and the delectable Sally Mayes is out of synch with the casual vocal demeanor of flapper soubrettes. The young lovers, Diane Fratantoni and Philip Chaffin, don’t do much with the substandard Gershwin ballads, and even conductor Fisher seems to nod off a little in the ensembles. (Note: This two-CD set also includes the score of the Gershwins’ Tip-Toes, a more well known title and therefore the main focus of the recording.) — Marc Miller

Original Broadway Cast, 1984 (Polygram) (2 / 5) Onstage, it was an entertaining, beautifully put together, old-fashioned show, but the cast album of The Tap Dance Kid reveals an uninteresting score. The musical’s strongest component is its book, written by long-time Broadway stage manager Charles Blackwell. The story centers on an upper-middle-class black family ruled by a tyrannical father (Samuel E. Wright) whose 10-year-old son, Willie (Alfonso Ribeiro), wants to be a tap dancer, following in the footsteps of his uncle (Hinton Battle). The lawyer-father’s adamant opposition to Willie’s career choice, plus other conflicts within the family involving the boy’s sympathetic mother and his outspoken older sister, drive the plot. The original cast members — those already named, plus Hattie Winston, Jackie Lowe, and Alan Weeks — give fine performances, and the songs, by composer Henry Krieger and lyricist Robert Lorick, help tell the story logically but without any particular inspiration. Here is an example of a musical whose sum is greater than its individual parts.  — David Wolf

Original Off-Broadway Cast, 1983 (Painted Smiles) (1 / 5) One of the most colorful personalities in show business history, Tallulah Bankhead was so imitable that any impressionist worth his or her salt could evoke her with one growled “Dahhling!” Small wonder, then, that the musical Tallulah opens with a raft of male Bankheads going through the expected baritone-drawl motions. More surprising is the fact that the ambitious show, which ran briefly Off-Broadway, tried to be a full-scale biography of this magnetic and sometimes outrageous woman. Instead, it comes across as a sort of scrapbook-cum-A&E biography with songs that gaily (ahem!) skim the surface of Bankhead’s life without providing any real insight or substance. Arthur Siegel wrote a hummable score, and Mae Richard’s lyrics are generally serviceable, but the prime asset here is Helen Gallagher in the title role. A true musical comedy pro, she offers a decent imitation of Tallulah while singing far better than the real one ever could. (Oddly enough, Gallagher sings the curtain number, “I’m the Woman You Wanted,” in her own higher voice, not in Bankhead’s way-down tones.) Russell Nype appears to adequate effect as Tallulah’s senator father, and everyone works as hard as possible under the modest circumstances. But as Tallulah herself might have said, “There is less here than meets the eye.” — Richard Barrios