Original Broadway Cast, 1981 (RCA) (5 / 5) A big flop in its original Broadway production, this show boasts one of Stephen Sondheim’s best scores. George Furth’s book, based on a George S. Kaufman-Moss Hart disappointment, follows three erstwhile best friends — a composer-turned-producer, his former lyricist partner, and an author/journalist — backward in time from adulthood to their idealistic salad days in New York, reviewing the missteps, betrayals, and compromises made along the way. With its lurid “inside” view of showbiz, the musical was dramatically unworkable. Also, the production design was disastrous; and the performers, playing gin-swilling, backstabbing sophisticates through most of the show, were too young. But none of this matters when you’re listening to the recording. Savor the heartbreaking melodies and trenchant lyrics, or analyze the score’s jigsaw-puzzle construction in which themes and ideas are set forth, then quoted and reworked, creating a solid emotional substructure. (The melody that’s first heard as “The Hills of Tomorrow” is reused several times and serves as a strong musical through-line.) Jonathan Tunick’s orchestrations are brassy and driving, and the three leads are marvelous. As composer Franklin Shepard, Jim Walton displays a piercing tenor that shines especially in “Not a Day Goes By,” one of Sondheim’s most wounding ballads. Lonny Price is appealing as Charley, Frank’s collaborator; he easily navigates the tortuous lyrics of “Franklin Shepard, Inc.” and gives a heartfelt reading of the rueful “Good Thing Going.” Another plus is a young Jason Alexander as Joe. But the big revelation is Ann Morrison, devastating as Mary, the writer who descends into alcoholism while pining for Frank. She brings an overwhelming warmth and sadness to “Like It Was” and “Not a Day Goes By,” and is just as strong in the invigorating “Now You Know.” — David Barbour

Leicester Haymarket Theatre Cast, 1993 (JAY, 2CDs) (4 / 5) This is a recording of a heavily revised version of Merrily We Roll Along, with substantial dialogue sequences included. The story line is still plagued by a breathless view of showbiz mores, and the idea that writing Broadway musicals is a career for noble souls while working on Hollywood films is iniquitous. New material includes “That Frank,” a reworking of “Rich and Happy”; “Growing Up,” sung by Frank and his second wife, Gussie; and the entr’acte, bows, and exit music. Also included is a song that was cut from the original production: “The Blob,” Gussie’s disenchanted description of the guests at her New York party. This lively, up-tempo performance has strong work from its mostly British cast, especially Michael Cantwell as Frank and Jacqueline Dankworth as Beth, Frank’s first wife. Maria Friedman strains for brittle sophistication as Mary, but she partners nicely with Dankworth and Cantwell in “Not a Day Goes By.” American performer Evan Pappas is a very capable Charley, especially in “Good Thing Going.” Louise Gold is an aptly cynical Gussie. Minor flaws include some shaky American accents and occasionally over-emphatic performances, but it’s interesting to hear the score performed by an adult cast. — D.B.

Off-Broadway Cast, 1994 (Varèse Sarabande) (4 / 5) The York Theatre production of Merrily We Roll Along is preserved on this recording, which presents a slightly condensed version of the material heard on the Leicester Haymarket album and has a slight edge over that version because it boasts superb singing and warmer performances overall. Malcolm Gets and Adam Heller are in fine form as Frank and Charley. Amy Ryder is quite wonderful as tough-talking, heartbroken Mary.  Michele Pawk is a gutsy Gussie (her brassy rendition of “Good Thing Going” is a riot), and Anne Bobby is the most touching Beth on record, especially in “Not a Day Goes By.” Jonathan Tunick’s new orchestrations, for far fewer instruments than the Broadway production boasted, work quite well, giving the entire performance energy and bite. A particular standout is “Opening Doors,” one of Sondheim’s most dazzling numbers, in an extended sequence that shows us Frank, Charley, and Mary at the beginning of their careers. — D.B.

New York City Center Encores! Cast, 2012 (PS Classics) (2 / 5) The much-anticipated Encores! concert staging of Merrily We Roll Along proved to be oddly listless, and so is this recording. The casting is partly to blame. Colin Donnell’s Frank is so bland and forgettable that at times he seems to disappear from the show. Lin-Manuel Miranda is strictly pro-forma as Charley, lacking the fury (and the vocal ability) that Lonny Price brought to the role. Celia Keenan-Bolger struggles to effectively deliver Mary’s acid-laced wisecracks  — e.g., PARTY GUEST: “I wrote the screenplay for Frank’s movie.” MARY: “Your secret is safe with me.” Also, during the reprise of “Not a Day Goes By,” one misses the effortless heartbreak that Ann Morrison brought to the number. Thanks to slower tempi and a general lack of urgency, one begins to notice that the song “That Frank” is inferior to the one it replaced, “Rich and Happy,” and that “Growing Up” and “The Blob” are among the weaker numbers in Sondheim’s songbook.  Adam Grupper and Elizabeth Stanley are fine as Joe and Gussie, with Betsy Wolfe the standout as Beth. Completists will want this recording, especially given the personnel involved, but any of its predecessors makes a better case for this famously troubled, heartbreaking show. — D.B.

Broadway Cast, 2023 (Masterworks Broadway) (4 / 5)  Endlessly fussed over but arguably never improved since its original production, Merrily We Roll Along finally achieved smash-hit status via Maria Friedman’s 2023 Broadway revival, which yielded this cast album. With Sondheim’s passing in 2021, and with the original score and script unavailable for production, this is presumably the final, standard version—alas. Dropping the framing device of two high school graduations has meant losing “The Hills of Tomorrow,” the score’s Rosetta Stone and the key to its many musical inventions. The title song, originally sung by the young cast members rebelling against the middle-aged Frank’s commencement speech, makes an enervated stand-alone opening number that, rather than building, merely repeats itself. “Growing Up,” designed to showcase the expanded role of Gussie — now a grasping, man-eating Broadway star who swallows Frank whole — is a low-energy pill inserted once into each act, its lyrics only adding to the show’s oversupply of editorializing. And yet: The crisp, staccato rendering of the overture pulses with excitement, and the three leads are sensational throughout. “That Frank” plays better than usual, thanks to the tense back-and-forth between Jonathan Groff’s Frank and Lindsay Mendez’s Mary. Mendez brings an autumnal regret to “Like It Was” and “Not a Day Goes By.” Daniel Radcliffe’s intelligent, furiously intense “Franklin Shepard, Inc.” may be the best since Lonny Price’s. All three stars display combustible chemistry in “Old Friends” and, in “Opening Doors,” their mutual affection feels natural and unforced. Katie Rose Clarke brings an interesting sense of grievance to “Not a Day Goes By.” Though Radcliffe will never be primarily known as a singer, his performance of “Good Thing Going” has a touching sensitivity that contrasts effectively with the blowsy, brassy rendition of Kristal Joy Browne as Gussie, exposing how Frank and Charley’s work has been vulgarized for Broadway. Merrily continues to be the ultimate heartbreaker, an unfixable show with a superb score, and an endless source of argumentation among fans. If you own the original recording and this one, you have a clear picture of what happened to it on its long, slow journey to box office success. — D.B.

Original Broadway Cast, 1970 (Atlantic/150 Music) (3 / 5) Based on Stephen M. Joseph’s book of the same title, The Me Nobody Knows is a collection of writings by inner-city students turned into a musical by composer Gary William Friedman, lyricist Will Holt, and playwright Herb Schapiro. Holt did his best to create lyrics without making big alterations to the material; the result is a collection of poetic songs that describe the dreams of kids growing up in the ghetto. With their defiantly hopeful voices, the show’s energetic company of 12 brings truth to songs like “If I Had a Million Dollars,” “How I Feel,” and “Black.” The cast album was belatedly released on CD; the sound quality isn’t very clean, and some of the kids’ voices are pretty rough. Still, these elements give The Me Nobody Knows an authentic feeling of time and place, while the material itself — concerning drugs, poverty, and other challenges faced by this population — is still sadly relevant. Even those who don’t appreciate the funky rock score will likely be moved by the infectious melody and imagery of “Light Sings” or the musical’s beautiful finale, “Let Me Come In.” — Brooke Pierce

Film Soundtrack, 1944 (MGM/Rhino-Turner)  (1 / 5) Based on a series of stories by Sally Benson that originally appeared in The New Yorker, Vincente Minnelli’s Meet Me in St. Louis is one of the glories of MGM’s Arthur Freed unit, but the film doesn’t have enough noteworthy music or interesting vocal performances to fill a soundtrack album. Judy Garland renders Hugh Martin and Ralph Blane’s “The Boy Next Door,” “The Trolley Song,” and “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” with an exquisitely light touch. She also does a lovely job with “Boys and Girls Like You and Me,” a Rodgers and Hammerstein song that wound up on the cutting-room floor. About half of the Rhino-Turner CD consists of musical underscoring from the movie, which means that a few vocal gems alternate with long stretches of orchestral tedium, even though the instrumental tracks do feature luxurious orchestrations by Conrad Salinger. — Charles Wright

Original Broadway Cast, 1989 (DRG)  (2 / 5) Back when this stage version of Meet Me in St. Louis opened, who could have ever foreseen that, not too many years later, Broadway would be reduced to a theme park full of musical revivals, revisals, and adaptations of Hollywood movies? The score of the show was a mixture of the small handful of standards contained in MGM’s 1944 film and additional numbers by Hugh Martin and Ralph Blane. Ironically, the paucity of invention on Broadway over the past decade makes this technically splendid recording of a so-called “New Broadway Hit Musical” worth a second listen. A revision of a stage adaptation that Martin, Blane, and Sally Benson had concocted in 1960 as summer fare for the Municipal Opera of St. Louis, the Broadway Meet Me in St. Louis was quite overproduced; its lavish set design by Keith Anderson included a frozen pond on which dancers executed intricate skating choreography by Michael Tokar. In addition to its visual excesses, the show offered a sprightly mix of Martin-Blane songs and old chestnuts like “Skip to My Lou” and “Under the Bamboo Tree” (both in the film version as well), sumptuously orchestrated by Michael Gibson and well performed by a plucky, talented cast. It’s hard not to feel an uplift of spirit when the large pit band, under Bruce Pornahac’s baton, soars through the lush overture, with its combination of brassiness and schmaltz; or when Donna Kane, the show’s ingenue, lets rip her energetic rendition of “The Trolley Song.” The show didn’t last long in New York, but its thoroughly listenable score is a reminder that Martin and Blane deserve a page in the Great American Songbook. — C.W.

London Cast, 1985 (EMI) (4 / 5) This production took a very charming, very old musical, gussied up the book, the score, and the arrangements, and presented it to the public as a lovely nostalgia fest. Me and My Girl had originally opened in London in 1937 and enjoyed a very long run. With music by Noel Gay and book and lyrics by L. Arthur Rose, the show tells the sweet tale of Bill Snibson, a cockney ne’er-do-well who turns out to be an earl and is pressured to forsake his Lambeth girlfriend, Sally Smith, when he assumes his title. Director Mike Ockrent, producer Richard Armitage, and executive producer David Aukin supervised the musical’s rebirth, incorporating revisions by playwright Stephen Fry and Ockrent, and interpolating several songs with music by Gay from other sources. The production proved to be a big success in London and, a year later, on Broadway. Among the best numbers are the title song, Bill’s “Leaning on a Lamp Post,” and the catchy “Lambeth Walk,” which was a huge international hit in 1937 and delighted a new generation of audiences when resurrected in the 1980s. The recording is skillfully produced by Norman Newell. As Bill, Robert Lindsay is a real charmer, and so is his Sally: Emma Thompson, who went on to a brilliant career as a highly respected actress in non-musical films. — Michael Portantiere

Broadway Cast, 1986 (MCA) (4 / 5) The Broadway transfer of the hit London revisal of Me and My Girl inaugurated the Marquis Theatre, located within a mammoth new hotel whose construction entailed the razing of several old theaters, including the venerable Helen Hayes and Morosco. This may have predisposed many Broadway old-timers to hate the show, but Me and My Girl was so much fun that it was impossible to harbor any ill will toward it. Robert Lindsay repeated his West End role of Bill Snibson and received a Tony Award for his efforts. Maryann Plunkett, an utterly winning Sally Smith, also won a Tony. Among the old pros on hand in supporting roles are Jane Connell as Maria, Duchess of Deane; George S.Irving as Sir John Tremayne; Timothy Jerome as Herbert Parchester; and Justine Johnston as Lady Battersby. That superb cast, plus the fact that the CD booklet notes by musical theater expert Stanley Green are far more extensive than those for the London album, will make this the preferred recording of the show for many listeners, although some will want to check out the previous album if only for Emma Thompson. — M.P.

Original Broadway Cast, 1953 (RCA) (3 / 5) It’s hard to believe, but Rodgers and Hammerstein did have a few flops in addition to their many hits. Me and Juliet was one such failure, and the team’s only foray into the backstage musical genre. Still,  even this score contains flashes of brilliance. “Marriage Type Love” is a tuneful charm song with a wonderfully romantic lyric, while “That’s the Way It Happens” has just the right pithiness and nonchalance that’s called for. Probably the best and most famous item in the show is “No Other Love,” based on a theme that Rodgers originally wrote for the background score of Victory at Sea, a television documentary on World War II. It’s a lovely song with a beguiling melody, even if it is indicative of the non-character-specific writing in Me and Juliet. Many of the songs are misfires, particularly “We Deserve Each Other” and “Keep It Gay,” both of which are leaden. There is one showbiz-themed song that succeeds: “Intermission Talk.” Isabel Bigley as Jeanie heads the cast, fresh from her starring role in Guys and Dolls; Bill Hayes displays a very appealing voice as Larry; and Joan McCracken as Betty steals the show with her special brand of sassiness. — Gerard Alessandrini

Original Off-Broadway Cast, 1985 (Harbinger) (2 / 5) When Bye Bye Birdie exploded on Broadway in 1960, it was an announcement that a brand-new generation had arrived in just about every department. Since then, composer Charles Strouse has had an interesting time of it. He has written the music for more shows than any of his contemporaries, and while most of them were box-office failures, his three big hits — Bye Bye Birdie, Applause, and Annie — have more than made up for the missteps. And even his flops have been filled with terrific songs. That said, Mayor has what may be the least interesting tunes of Strouse’s career. Based on New York City mayor Ed Koch’s book of the same title, and produced while he was still in office, the musical doesn’t take advantage of the spikiness of Koch’s personality; it’s a bland, fairly generic revue that covers familiar NYC subject matter, attitudes, and stereotypes. Unusually, Strouse wrote his own lyrics for this show, and they’re okay, but there’s not much in the way of a fresh point of view here. The book is by Warren Leight, who won a Tony Award for his play Side Man 14 years later. — David Wolf

Off-Broadway Cast, 2001 (Original Cast Records) (4 / 5) The legendary 1967 out-of-town closing performance of this show is notorious for its title character, played by one Marissa Mell, being shot by a firing squad, falling, dying — and then rubbing her itchy nose when she was supposed to be stone-cold dead. In a strange way, Mell’s move has proven to be a good metaphor for this musical, which has refused to die. In 2001, the cast of the York Theatre Company revival recorded the stirring score — unfortunately, with synthesized accompaniment. (No show should use synthesizers if it’s set in an era before synthesizers were invented!) But even those machines can’t destroy Edward Thomas’s strong melodies, which are wed to deft, incisive lyrics by Martin Charnin. Mata Hari (Robin Skye) has a terrific opening song, “Everyone Has Something to Hide,” and the equally effective “Not Now, Not Here.” Captain LaFarge (Michael Zaslow), her would-be capturer/romantic interest, has the pungent “Is This Fact?” and the wistful “How Young You Were Tonight.” The jewel of the score is “Maman.” If only it didn’t sound like the singers were accompanied by automobile horns! — Peter Filichia

Original London Cast, 1996 (Dreamworks) (4 / 5) By the time this latest epic from composer Claude-Michel Schönberg and lyricist Alain Boublil arrived on the scene, the serious pop-opera genre was fading away. That’s too bad, as this is one of the best scores of its type. The book for the show, also by Boublil & Schönberg, was inspired by a historical incident best known for its dramatic treatment in the film The Return of Martin Guerre. The title character, a 16th-century French farmer, is forced into marriage with a young woman, Bertrande, in order to consolidate their Catholic families’ hold on their farmland near the village of Artigat. The marriage is a disaster and produces no children, so Martin runs off to war. Seven years later, he apparently dies on the battlefield. His companion-in-war, a man named Arnaud, subsequently visits Artigat and is mistaken for Martin. Then Arnaud falls in love with Bertrande. This tale of deception is set against a background of smoldering conflict between Catholics and Protestants. It’s a grim piece, carried along by the sweep of Schönberg’s frequently ravishing melodies. Boublil’s lyrics — translated by Herbert Kretzmer, Edward Hardy, and Stephen Clark — are often cruelly pointed, and they serve the story well. The best numbers include the title song; “Here Comes the Morning,” a duet for Martin and Arnaud; “Tell Me to Go,” Arnaud’s plea to Bertrande; and the stunning choral number “The Imposters.” These and some grandly scaled orchestral interludes give Martin Guerre the scale of a true opera. (Skip the one egregious attempt at humor, “Sleeping on Our Own,” delivered by a trio of comic crones.) As Arnaud and Bertrande, lain Glen and Juliette Caton sing beautifully. They receive strong support from Matt Rawle in the title role and Jérôme Pradon as Guillame, who loves Bertrande from afar. — David Barbour

Touring Cast, 1999 (Dreamworks) (3 / 5) After Martin Guerre failed in the West End, producer Cameron Mackintosh tried again. He had Boublil and Schönberg create a new touring version that represents one of the most extensive overhauls of any musical. Even though it follows the same general plot line, it’s an almost total rewrite, with many new songs and with melodies from the 1996 version reassigned and given new lyrics. The result is harsher, focusing even more on the religious strife that’s tearing Artigat apart. If at times the score is shrill, even hysterical, there’s plenty of dramatic power here. Alas, Stephen Clark alone translated the lyrics for the revised show, and they’re much weaker. For example, the new ballad “Live With Someone You Love” is a thesaurus of clichés. On the other hand, “Without You as a Friend” is a canny addition to the score. The title song and “The Imposters” are both still here (albeit with new lyrics), along with many other effective numbers, but William David Brohn’s orchestrations lack majesty. The new cast — Stephen Weller as Martin, Matthew Cammelle as Arnaud, Joanna Riding as Bertrande, Maurice Clark as Guillaume — is vocally skilled and dramatically apt. — D.B.

Original Off-Broadway Cast, 1981 (RCA) (1 / 5) Stephen Sondheim compilation shows have always seemed silly to me. Doesn’t the appeal of his work lie largely in its specificity? The original cast album of Marry Me a Little is one of the most plodding, monotonous, and annoying recordings of Sondheim’s songs ever released. The show doesn’t have much of a story, but it does have a concept: On a Saturday evening, a man (played by Craig Lucas) and a woman (Suzanne Henry) who don’t know each other (and who never meet) sit home in their respective apartments and sing Sondheim songs. Among them: “Can That Boy Foxtrot!” and “Uptown, Downtown” (both cut from Follies), the title song and “Happily Ever After” (both cut from Company, although “Marry Me a Little” has been reinstated for subsequent productions of that show), and “There Won’t Be Trumpets” (cut from Anyone Can Whistle, but reinstated for various revivals and concert presentations of that show) . These items are interesting and worth knowing, but that doesn’t mean they work in this context.  That said, the only truly unbearable section of the album is an insufferable combination of “All Things Bright and Beautiful” (Follies) and “Bang!” (A Little Night Music). Although the singing voices of Lucas and Henry are generally lacking in distinction, these two do a somewhat better job in other numbers — but they’re never aided by the cool, impersonal, distant-sounding accompaniment of a lone piano. — Matthew Murray

Original Broadway Cast, 2000 (RCA) (3 / 5) Michael John LaChiusa turns out songs quickly — so quickly, he boasts, that he can sometimes knock off several in a day. There’s nothing necessarily wrong with that, but it is a problem when the songs don’t sound so much effortless as hurried, and there’s a strong whiff of that here. LaChiusa has a gift for ravishing melody, but he cuts corners by not bothering to develop the themes and motifs into rounded songs. Seemingly allergic to the traditional 32-bar structure, he prefers to construct his scores as ever-evolving fragments of music. Sometimes it works, and sometimes it can strike the listener as continual songus interruptus. Some parts click and other parts don’t in Marie Christine, a transplant of Euripides’ Medea to New Orleans and Chicago at the turn of the 19th century. The murderous mom here is a Creole with magical powers, who gets involved with a politically ambitious man. When the cad realizes that the liaison could stymie his career, he dumps Marie Christine for a politico’s daughter, and suffers the dumpee’s wrath. LaChiusa’s great fortune is in having Audra McDonald apply her gorgeous voice to his concoctions. She sings beautifully in “Beautiful” and tops herself in a flowing chanson titled “C’est I’amour.” Also shining like diamonds in a flawed setting are Darius de Haas in “Complainte de Lord Pierrot” (from a Jules LaForgue poem), and the always lusty Mary Testa as a toddlin’ town madam. The orchestrations, subtle and authoritative throughout, are by Jonathan Tunick. — David Finkle

Original Off-Broadway Cast, 2002 (JAY)  (2 / 5) Roger Rees did first-rate work as Alfie, a Dublin bus driver who revels in amateur theatricals and yearns for a male coworker, but this show was a disappointment. The 1994 film of the same title, a melancholy comedy about Irish eccentrics, was notable for its light touch. In contrast, Terrence McNally’s libretto for the musical consists of much hand-wringing over the fate of closeted, middle-aged, 1960s gay Irish bachelors. Still, Stephen Flaherty’s seductive tunes and Lynn Ahrens’ sharp, economical lyrics shouldn’t be dismissed. High points include the opening title-tune sequence, the rousing yet acrid “Streets of Dublin” (sung by Steven Pasquale as Alfie’s unwitting love object), and the forlorn “Love Who You Love.” Faith Prince, as Alfie’s spinster sister, has to cope with substandard material, and a pair of songs about community theater — “Going Up” and “Art” — seem like they belong in a different show. Still, the score does cast a certain spell, and when it works, it can bring tears to your eyes. A bonus track offers “Love’s Never Lost,” an expanded version of a song fragment heard in the show. — David Barbour

Original Off-Broadway Cast, 1966 (Kapp/no CD) (4 / 5) For a tantalizing glimpse of the talent and creativity spawned Off-Broadway in happier times, seek out this 1966 hit, a Restoration-style comedy (though based on a minor 20th century play) that is by turns bawdy, witty, satirical, and as romantic as fine Madeira shared by the fire. It led observers to expect great things of composer-lyricist John Clifton (librettist Ben Tarver helped on the lyrics), whose melodies and harmonies are distinctive and alluring without straying too far from tradition. Sadly, one later Off-Broadway fiasco aside, Clifton’s subsequent work for the theater was minimal. That’s a pity, since vocal showpieces such as “Lover Lost,” “Goodbye, My Sweet,” and “Once You’ve Had a Little Taste” mark their composer as a natural musical storyteller with unfailing instincts as to which dramatic moments should be turned into song. On the cast album, Reid Shelton’s tenor sails easily above the staff in “Hulla-Baloo-Balay” and “Come to the Masquerade.” Virginia Vestoff acts as well as she sings in the title track and “A Wonder.” Raymond Thorne exudes patrician hauteur in “You’d Be Amazed” and “Forget!” The other three — Alice Cannon, Tom Noel, and Lesslie Nicol — are less skilled vocally, but well cast in their roles. This recording is long overdue for a digital transfer. — Marc Miller

Original Off-Broadway Cast Members, 1994 (Varèse Sarabande) (3 / 5) “Promising” is the obvious word for Lucky Stiff, the first produced musical by composer Stephen Flaherty and lyricist Lynn Ahrens, but that would sell it short. It’s also professional, assured, and entertaining, if not entirely successful. The show tells the trivial story of a meek British shoe salesman who will inherit six million dollars if he agrees to take his uncle’s corpse, in a wheelchair, for one last holiday in Monte Carlo. The two are pursued (and occasionally kidnapped) by all kinds of people who, essentially, want the salesman’s money, although the pursuers each have their own particular farcical motivation. Perhaps because there’s so much convoluted plotting and exposition in this show, it’s hard not to wish that the score was a little less “integrated.” The songs are occasionally so busy doing plot work that they aren’t as much fun as they might have been. Still, they exhibit genuine skill and craft. Flaherty’s great gifts for melody and humor are already clearly in evidence, and some of Ahrens’ neatest and most effortless lyrics are to be found here. Partly because the characters are broad but not terribly rich, the accomplished farceurs who make up the cast don’t get the kind of musical moments that would elevate this show to another level, but the redoubtable Mary Testa, Evan Pappas, Judy Blazer, and Debbie (Shapiro) Gravitte come close. — David Wolf

Off-Broadway Cast, 2003 (JAY) (3 / 5) This recording, which followed a five-performance “Musicals in Mufti” run of Lucky Stiff at the York Theatre, is better than its predecessor. The first recording was made years after the show had closed at Playwrights Horizons, without the participation of the director and with only a few of the original performers; this one has much more of a real cast album feel to it, with a company that had recently been through rehearsals and performances together. In fact, six of the 10 cast members here were also in the first production, though only two of them are heard on the original recording. All of their performances are looser, less frantic, and funnier this time around, with Mary Testa unleashed triumphantly. Among the newcomers, Janet Metz and Malcolm Gets make an appealingly believable leading couple, even if Gets’s British accent is a sometime thing. Musical director David Loud’s single-piano accompaniment is more attractive than the elaborate orchestrations of the first recording, which too often strain for comic effect. The material is mostly the same on both albums, though this one has a little more spoken dialogue, as well as the previously unrecorded Act I finale and “A Woman in My Bathroom.” As a bonus track, we get the charming “Shoes,” which was cut from the show. Both CD booklets feature uncommonly ugly cover art. — D.W.

Studio Cast, 2000 (DRG) (1 / 5) For this musical, which was seen at the Goodspeed Opera House in 1997, librettist Sherman Yellen wrapped a yarn of romance among expat American journalists in 1927 Paris around a batch of songs by Jimmy McHugh, with lyrics by Harold Adamson and Dorothy Fields. Don’t expect much; Yellen’s idea of historical realism includes Gertrude Stein singing “On the Sunny Side of the Street” and a newsroom full of reporters performing a musical tribute to Charles Lindbergh with “Comin’ In on a Wing and a Prayer.” Others passing through include Josephine Baker and Isadora Duncan. With its easily ignorable plot and most of the songs for each of the major characters sung by more than one performer, this studio cast album works best as a nod to McHugh by Broadway A-listers. Barbara Cook has several lovely tracks, but they appear to have been taken directly from her tribute album to Dorothy Fields, Close as Pages in a Book. Other notable participants are Malcolm Gets, Patrick Wilson, Debbie Gravitte, and Lillias White, but Peter Matz’s orchestrations are more evocative of a pop album than a Broadway show. —David Barbour

New York Concert Cast, 1996 (DRG) (3 / 5) This is a biting and funny satire of Louisiana’s byzantine politics in general, and of Huey Long in particular. Although Louisiana Purchase opened on Broadway in 1940 with a delightful sung disclaimer that all of its incidents were fictitious, composer-lyricist Irving Berlin and book writers Morris Ryskind and B. G. DeSylva — and, no doubt, delighted theatergoers — reveled in the show’s doses of reality-based topical material. This spirited musical had to wait more than a half-century for a recording. Fortunately, the wait was worth it. Based on a concert presentation at Weill Recital Hall in New York City, here’s a zingy and infectious performance that is more than complete; a number of cut songs, some of them quite good, were reinstated. (Who besides hard-core scholars knew of “I’d Love to Be Shot From a Cannon With You?”) Michael McGrath is aces as the wisecracking hero, Judy Blazer (with a hilarious German accent) makes a good partner for him, and veteran George S. Irving is predictably excellent in the role originally played by Victor Moore. Another veteran, Taina EIg, is charming if perhaps less assured than her part’s creator, Irene Bordoni. In a role that’s more Greek chorus than integral character, Debbie Gravitte offers some fine Broadway “can-belto.” Score-wise,this is not Annie Get Your Gun or  As Thousands Cheer, but it’s a lot of fun. — Richard Barrios

Original Broadway Cast, 1949 (Decca) (3 / 5) Lost in the Stars, by playwright Maxwell Anderson and composer Kurt Weill, deals with racial discrimination and segregation — unlikely territory for a Broadway musical in 1940s America. With its operatic dimensions and somber tone, the show elicited mixed but largely approving notices. Weill and Anderson based their work on Alan Paton’s Cry, the Beloved Country, a 1948 novel that contrasts the natural beauty of South Africa with the brutality of its apartheid policy. As in the novel, the protagonist is a Zulu (played by Todd Duncan) ordained to the Anglican priesthood, whose son kills a white man in the course of committing a robbery and is tried for murder, convicted, and hanged. The story concludes with the reconciliation of two bereaved fathers, the black priest and the white man whose son was killed. Anderson’s Iibretto and Weill’s magnificent score take liberties with Paton’s material; in fact, after seeing Lost in the Stars, the novelist wrote that he regretted giving its adapters the rights to his book. The musical featured a Greek chorus narrating and commenting on the action. Virgil Thomson, in his review for the New York Herald Tribune, called the show a singspiel; the chorus performs an inordinate amount of the score, leaving little for the principals to do. The recording contains about 45 minutes of music, with Maurice Levine conducting a 12-piece chamber ensemble, orchestrations by Weill. The spoken dialogue is somewhat wooden, and some of the singing is weak.  — Charles Wright

Studio Cast, 1993 (MusicMasters Classics) (4 / 5) As general director and principal conductor of the New York City Opera in the late 1950s, Julius Rudel rescued Lost in the Stars from obscurity by introducing it into his company’s repertoire. Thirty-five years later, Rudel conducted this definitive recording of the beautiful Weill-Anderson score. Leading the Orchestra of St. Luke’s, he utilized more musicians than Weill ever envisioned, and he searched the worlds of opera and musical theater to find a dream cast. Notable among the vocalists are Arthur Woodley, who not only sings exquisitely but also brings poignancy to Stephen Kumalo’s Act II soliloquy; Cynthia Clarey, who renders “Stay Well” and “Trouble Man” with tenderness; and Carol Woods, who belts “Who’ll Buy?” with flair. But the true stars of this recording are the members of the Concert Chorale of New York and tenor Gregory Hopkins as chorus leader. While the original Broadway album retains considerable historical interest, the superior vocalism and the ample orchestral sound of Rudel’s studio version eclipses the earlier release. — C.W.

Original Broadway and Touring Cast, 1973-74 (MGM/Decca) (3 / 5) Sort of a “revisal” of Gentlemen Prefer Blondes, though that word had not yet been coined when this show was staged, Lorelei had a new book and many new songs by Blondes composer Jule Styne, with lyrics by Betty Comden and Adolph Green. The star of both shows was the same, and so was the plot; a prologue and epilogue were added wherein central character Lorelei Lee reminisced about her life, to help justify the fact that Carol Channing was now too old for the role she had created 24 years earlier. The cast recorded the show before launching a year-long tour that was to precede the Broadway opening, but changes on the road led to a second recording. The first album, labeled “The Original Cast Recording” in big red letters and featuring a large drawing of Channing’s face, had three new Styne-Comden-Green songs: “Looking Back,” “Lorelei,” and “I Won’t Get Away.” There were also new lyrics for the original score’s “Sunshine,” retitled “Paris, Paris.” (Leo Robin wrote the lyrics for Gentlemen Prefer Blondes.) The second album was labeled “The Original Broadway Cast Album” in big blue lettering, with the same drawing of Channing. It added four tracks that were recorded a year after the first sessions: “It’s Delightful Down in Chile,” “Men,” a reprise of “Looking Back” leading into a reprise of “Diamonds Are a Girl’s Best Friend,” and a new overture. Inexplicably, some songs that were in the show when it reached New York were not on the album; but a new title song not performed on Broadway was included, probably to give leading man Peter Palmer more of a presence. The CD edition of Lorelei has everything that was recorded for both albums. Although the remastering is excellent, some of the tracks still sound hollow. Channing is in great voice and top form throughout. There’s not much opportunity for the other cast members to score on the recording, but Lee Roy Reams does a bang-up job with the jazzy “I Won’t Let You Get Away,” Tamara Long is a fine Dorothy, and Dody Goodman makes the most of her occasional comedic interjections. — J.D.

Original Broadway Cast, 1948 (Decca) (3 / 5) Based on an idea by Jerome Robbins, Look, Ma, I’m Dancin’! was a broad musical comedy about a touring ballet company. It starred the incredibly gifted Broadway clown Nancy Walker, later well known for her work on television. At 4’10”, Walker made her entrance in the show leading a Russian wolfhound that was nearly as tall as she was. She played an heiress whose money pays for the tour, thereby securing her place as the latest addition to the corps de ballet. The other main character, played by Harold Lang, is a young choreographer’s who’s brilliant but generally loathed, even by the girl who loves him. The show comprised three love stories, but the eight Hugh Martin songs on this album, all lightly swinging, do not reveal any sense of plot. Walker gets two solid comic pieces, “I’m the First Girl in the Second Row in the Third Scene in the Fourth Number, in Fifth Position” and “I’m Tired of Texas,” plus the more romantic, upbeat “If You’ll Be Mine.” Lang sings the irrepressible “Gotta Dance” and the self-reflective “I’m Not So Bright.” Composer Martin is heard here performing the odd “Little Boy Blues” with Sandra Deel, who also sings “Shauny O’Shea,” though Deel did neither number in the New York production. Bill Shirley didn’t make it to opening night, but he has two numbers on the album, which was recorded during rehearsals to avoid a pending musicians’ strike. If you’re looking for more of this show, the Ben Bagley CD Ballet on Broadway has the “Mlle. Scandale Ballet” — David Wolf

Off-Broadway Concert Cast, 2000 (Original Cast Records) (2 / 5) Musicals Tonight! is a very well-meaning New York company that mounts concert performances of old musicals. It consistently chooses the most interesting titles of all the NYC concert-musical series, and its tickets are far less expensive than any of the others. This recording documents the group’s presentation of Look, Ma, I’m Dancin’! — apparently, the first since the original Broadway run. I’m fond of this material and Hugh Martin’s writing in general, but I can’t say that this album is very impressive, even if it does include five songs that are not to be found on the Broadway cast album. Except for Rob Lorey, none of the performers here sings with any distinctive sense of character. — D.W.

Original Off-Broadway Cast, 1956 (Painted Smiles) (4 / 5) The vibrant overture on this recording tells us that we’re about to hear one of the tangiest revues of the 1950s. Ben Bagley produced the show. Most of the songs are by Vernon Duke and Ogden Nash, and those that aren’t are by then-unknowns who wouldn’t stay unknown for long: Charles Strouse, Lee Adams, and Sheldon Harnick, to name just three. The hilarious “Backer’s Audition” opener is the work of orchestrator John Strauss, Kenward Elmslie, and John Latouche. The cast is uneven but pretty terrific overall. A young Tammy Grimes is already mannered and throaty, but who cares when she’s introducing “I’m Glad I’m Not a Man,” with Nash rhymes like “battle-axe” / “Cadillacs.” Joel Grey has fun with the mock-Belafonte number “I Lost the Rhythm” (music and lyrics by Strouse). And everything Charlotte Rae touches turns to gold. She’s warm and distinctive in the Duke-Nash song “Summer Is a-Comin’ In,” zany in Harnick’s “The Shape of Things,” devastating in Bud McCreery’s “The Power of Negative Thinking,” and triumphant in “Spring Doth Let Her Colours Fly.” That last-named item, an impudent Strouse-Adams spoof of Helen Traubel’s Las Vegas act, may be the single funniest song from any ’50s revue. The other performers aren’t quite of the Grimes-Grey-Rae caliber; Beverly Bozeman over-belts “Good Little Girls,” and Tommy Morton, more a dancer than a singer, bobbles the fine, odd Duke-Nash ballad “Born Too Late.” But the material, including a couple of CD bonus tracks, is so strong that one columnist was moved to call the show “the My Fair Lady of the intimate revue.” That’s not much of an exaggeration. — Marc Miller

Original Off-Broadway Cast, 1982 (Geffen) (4 / 5) Who would have thought that Roger Corman and Charles B. Griffith’s campy 1960 horror flick about a bloodthirsty plant out for world conquest would make such a delightful musical? The original cast recording of Little Shop of Horrors beautifully demonstrates why this show has become a modern classic. The score, with lyrics by Howard Ashman and music by Alan Menken, is a treasure; it charmingly combines evocative, early-’60s pop/rock song styles with theatricality so solid that the “girl group” sound of the catchy title song and the driving Motown beat of “Git It” don’t sound out of place next to the sweetly heartfelt “Somewhere That’s Green” or the soaring duet “Suddenly Seymour.” Then there’s a wonderful cast. Lee Wilkof is just right as the nebbishy Seymour, who tends to the carnivorous Audrey II (soulfully voiced by Ron Taylor). Hy Anzell is fine as flower-shop owner Mushnik; Franc Luz plays a variety of bit parts successfully, including the sadistic biker dentist; and Sheila Kay Davis, Jennifer Leigh Warren, and Leilani Jones are great as the close-harmony singing, Greek-choruslike urchins. Finally, there’s Ellen Greene, her unique talents perfectly matched to the role of the abused yet ever-hopeful Audrey. Greene perfectly melds trashiness with vulnerability while singing beautifully. It’s disappointing that one full song, an important reprise, and small sections of other numbers are omitted from this cast album, and included is a version of “Mushnik and Son” that was later replaced. These changes make it an incomplete record of the material that most people will see performed in revivals, but what’s here is presented well enough to forgive what’s not. — Matthew Murray

Film Soundtrack, 1986 (Geffen) (3 / 5) All things considered, the film adaptation of Little Shop of Horrors is excellent: bright, funny, thoughtfully directed by Frank Oz, and well performed by a cast that features Rick Moranis as Seymour, the irreplaceable Ellen Greene as Audrey, and Steve Martin in a riotous performance as the dentist. Among the changes for the film, all of Mushnik’s songs are cut, and “Some Fun Now” replaces “Ya Never Know.” The new song “Mean Green Mother from Outer Space” is fine, but not as exciting as “Don’t Feed the Plants.” Note also that the soundtrack album’s spoken prologue and “Skid Row” have minor but noticeable differences from what’s heard in the film, and “The Meek Shall Inherit” doesn’t reflect the movie’s cuts. Happily, while the score retains most of its original intimacy, it sounds better than ever with full orchestrations by Bob Gaudio, Thomas Pasatieri, and original orchestrator Robby Merkin; “Suddenly Seymour” is particularly thrilling.  — M.M.

Broadway Cast, 2003 (DRG) (3 / 5) This recording is commendable for its completeness. Everything in the score is here, including “Mushnik & Son ” (with the now-standard lyrics), “Call Back in the Morning,” Audrey’s “Somewhere That’s Green” reprise, and even the “Shing-a-ling” first act finale. While some of the show’s sweet simplicity was sacrificed in favor of bigger takes on everything for the Broadway revival, Little Shop fans will want this cast album to be part of their collection despite its minor flaws. There are a few musical changes — most significantly, the use of the movie version’s extended title song. Danny Troob’s orchestrations lack the appeal of Robby Merkin’s, and some of the casting, particularly Hunter Foster as Seymour and Kerry Butler as Audrey, is more functional than ideal. Still, the recording is very well done, and it includes five bonus tracks of demos/cut songs sung by Menken, Ashman, and original Audrey II voice Ron Taylor. — M.M.

Off-Broadway Cast, 2019 (Ghostlight) (4 / 5) As per the show’s marketing, a 2019 revival returned Little Shop of Horrors to its Off-Broadway “roots” (get it?), playing at the intimate Westside Theatre on far West 43rd Street in a very well received production directed by Michael Mayer and starring Jonathan Groff as Seymour, Tammy Blanchard as Audrey, and Christian Borle as Orin Scrivello, DDS. Happily, the mistakes that were made for the pumped-up Broadway presentation of 2003 were not replicated here, and the show was a big hit in its run at the Westside until it had to close indefinitely due to the COVID-19 crisis of 2020. The score, as heard in Will Van Dyke’s fine new arrangements/orchestrations, is lovingly presented, and the leads are every inch as appealing a couple as they need to be; though some Little Shop fans may be nonplussed by Groff’s lack of a New York accent in the role, his Seymour is arguably the most warmly sung on record, while Blanchard’s Audrey is only a slight disappointment in that her limitations at the top of her vocal range seem to have necessitated a downward transposition of “Suddenly Seymour.” Borle is hysterically funny as the dentist of one’s nightmares, while Kingsley Leggs richly and dynamically voices Audrey II in the traditional mode. Tom Alan Robins is just right as Mushnik, and the three women who play the Urchins — Ari Groover, Salome Smith, and Joy Woods — come across as powerhouse vocalists individually and when functioning as a girl group.  — Michael Portantiere