I read Philip Clark’s opinion piece on Gramophone’s website (gramophone.co.uk) with interest. He bemoans the not-so-gradual demise of the traditional “bricks and mortar” record shop – something I totally agree with him about. With the closure of a string of independent record retailers in London, the picture is beginning to look a little like the Manhattan record retail landscape which hasn’t had a first-class, specialist store in years (really since Tower – and the Lincoln Center branch in particular – went out of business). But I’m not sure I lay quite as much blame at the feet of the download stores: the range, speed of delivery and efficiency of companies like Amazon is surely a greater factor in the independent retailers’ demise.

I grew up as a music-loving teenager with a number of very fine record stores nearby, but I never recall being offered advice by anyone who worked there (either I was too shy to ask or, thanks to a fairly rich diet of Gramophone, Radio 3’s Record Review and, for a while, Records and Recordings, I was pretty single-minded and clear about what I wanted). But I never came face to face with the staggering range and depth of recordings that is on offer these days in the digital domain.

Once a week or so I do the cyber-equivalent of browsing through the new release bins in a record store – I scroll through the dozens of pages of newly ripped recordings on eMusic. Now, I’ll concede the experience lacks the tactile thrill of picking up an LP, looking at its artwork and turning it over to read the details, but one very substantial bonus with the downloads is that with a single click of the mouse you can hear a snatch of each track (which is necessary when dealing with historic transfers, and a huge plus if you’ve never heard the piece before). A trawl through the 83 (!) pages of new releases yesterday unearthed some real treasures. Here’s a few that caught my eye – and then ear. Linn’s new Bach B minor Mass from the Dunedin Consort is there (a slightly extravagant 27 credits) – beautifully judged tempi and a wonderfully engaging performance that deserves to emulate the success of the same group’s Messiah and St Matthew Passion. I was also delighted to acquire the latest in the Imogen Cooper Schubert piano series for Avie (16 credits) – playing that approaches perfection. There’s an intriguing disc of music by that American maverick Henry Cowell from the Louisville Orchestra (19 credits) and Shostakovich’s Preludes and Fugues from Alexander Melnikov on Harmonia Mundi (48 credits). Valery Gergiev’s new Rachmaninov Second Symphony (LSO Live) is a very modest four credits and a swathe of Callas operas comes on a label called Classical Moments. There are also quite a number of recordings directed by Herbert Blomstedt and I’m definitely going to explore a Franz Konwitschny Edition. And also on the historic front a recording of Simon Barere and his son Boris looks intriguing, even though it is 29 credits (dividing the Schumann Symphonic Etudes into individual “chargeable” tracks seems rather mean).

And that was just eMusic: a graze through ClassicsOnline or theclassicalshop.net would reveal similar riches.

My first Beethoven Ninth Symphony – indeed the recording I came to know the work from – was Herbert von Karajan’s 1962 version for DG. To launch one of its beautifully presented reissue series, DG made available this Ninth for £1.99 (or could it have been 99p?) in the late 1970s – as an impecunious teenager I snapped up the LP and played it to bits. There were numerous things I loved (and still love) about it – the almost bell-like tone Karajan gets from the cellos in the Scherzo’s trio, the timeless quality of the Adagio and above all the extraordinary halo that Gundula Janowitz’s voice casts around her fellow soloists, almost luminous in its glow. I enjoy Karajan’s 1978 remake, am not so crazy about the digital Ninth and am slowly working my way through the Philharmonia cycle: a series of performances that would be difficult to place if you only know the Berlin Karajan.

So I was thrilled to see that Pristine Classical is issuing three programmes recorded in November 1958 when Karajan worked with the New York Phil and conducted eight concerts including the Ninth (the issues comprise this symphony; a concert of Webern’s Five Pieces, Mozart’s Jupiter and Beethoven’s First; and Richard Strauss’s Ein Heldenleben – the concerts have been reconfigured by Pristine: the two Beethovens actually shared the same concert).

To hear Karajan working with an American orchestra is a treat (he only ever conducted four in his entire life), and the New York Phil play beautifully – only occasionally would a phrase have been more “rounded” in Berlin. But the performance is very similar to the ’62 in conception, and the solo quartet (Leontyne Price, Maureen Forrester, Léopold Simoneau and Norman Scott) very classy; the choir is terrific (possibly better than Vienna’s Singverein to whom Karajan stayed extraordinarily loyal throughout his career). There’s a terrific dynamism and vitality about the interpretation too.

The sound – I listened to the FLAC file – is fine, though for a 1958 recording could sound a load better – the recordings were made from an AM radio broadcast. But I found that I soon attuned to the slightly cramped sound (Pristine labels it “SI” for Special Interest: maybe that’s being slightly cautious): only the opening of the finale is a bit of a mess aurally.

I found the performance fascinating: Karajan performed the Choral Symphony 10 times during 1958 (four with the NYPO, three each with the Vienna and Berlin Philharmonics): no wonder that when he came to record it (and there’s also a live recording from the opening of the Philharmonie) there’s a confidence and total security in his vision. If you’re a Karajan admirer this is well worth a listen: you can sample the first movement and decide whether the sound is good enough for you on Pristine’s site.

The Heldenleben – one of the first works I heard Karajan conduct live – is not dissimilar to the DG recording he made with his Berlin Philharmonic in 1959. The sound, again, is fine but still AM radio quality (compare it with Mengelberg’s staggering account from 1941 and that earlier recording knocks it into a cocked hat – Pristine also offers both Mengelberg performances, true classics of the Heldenleben discography).

The essential download playlist No 34 - Claudio Abbado

Hindemith Symphonic Metamophoses LSO (Decca) iTunes

Mahler Symphony No 6 BPO (DG) DG Webshop, iTunes

Mendelssohn Symphonies LSO (DG) DG Webshop, iTunes

Mozart Violin Concertos Carmignola; Orchestra Mozart (Archiv) DG Webshop, iTunes, Passionato

Rossini Il viaggio a Reims COE (DG) DG Webshop, iTunes, Passionato   

Schubert Symphonies COE (DG) DG Webshop, iTunes, Passionato   

Schumann Scenes from Goethe’s Faust BPO (Sony Classical) iTunes

Tchaikovsky Piano Concerto No 1 Argerich; BPO (DG) DG Webshop, iTunes, Passionato

Verdi Simon Boccanegra La Scala (DG) DG Webshop, iTunes   

Verdi Macbeth La Scala (DG) DG Webshop, iTunes

James Jolly