The story of how Klemperer's 1955 Beethoven Seventh (familiar to most readers in its mono LP version) also came to be recorded in stereo is told by Tony Harrison in the accompanying booklet. There's a faint flavour of Spycatcher in his description of the proceedings; stereo recording facilities were set up in a separate and carefully concealed control room, to which only ''a selected and duly cautioned artiste'' was admitted. The resultant stereo recording was available briefly on tape in the mid 1950s, but this substantially refurbished version is the first time it has been generally accessible. The sound is remarkable—few would guess the vintage, despite the high level of hiss—and it brings extra immediacy and freshness to what is undoubtedly Klemperer's finest Beethoven Seventh: tempos are on the whole less deliberate than in either of the two familiar stereo versions, and for once the grit and determination are matched by muscular agility—perhaps not ''the apotheosis of the dance'', but at least a performance in which delight in movement is evident at every turn. The seldom heard Prometheus Overture makes an apt coupling.'