If it's the Rhapsody in Blue you really want, disappointment awaits you in one form or another with each of these performances. Looking at the collections as a whole though, the picture is brighter.
The Previn/Philips surely disqualifies itself by its timid account of the Concerto in F—as in the Rhapsody, the aim seems to have been a kind of casual informality but the result sounds more like careless indifference. An American in Paris goes much better, but for this coupling MH expressed a strong preference for the earlier Previn LP recordings on HMV.
Bernstein's DG coupling is his own Symphonic Dances from West Side Story, done in great style, and anyone wanting this need not be unduly deterred by his vulgar account of the Rhapsody. The very outrageousness of the latter has a certain appeal, but only for stronger stomachs than mine. As on Previn's record, the piano sound is poor by present-day standards.
The choice between the new CBS and EMI issues is one largely defined by the programmes. Weissenberg's record with Ozawa and the Berlin Philharmonis includes the variations on I got rhythm, bordering on self-conscious modernism but full of fascinating invention; and the suite from Porgy and Bess is top-drawer Gershwin. Where both Previn and Bernstein adapt the Rhapsody along the lines of the shorter solo version, Weissenberg and Tilson Thomas perform the orchestral version uncut—surely giving a preferable structural balance between solo and tutti sections in a score which needs all the structural help it can get. Tilson Thomas has the additional advantage of Grofe's original jazz-band orchestration, punchy and idiomatic, as well as the experience of having accompanied the composer's own piano-roll (LP only—CBS 76509, 2/77).
Weissenberg is the only 'full-time' pianist of the four and this shows up in the fullness of his tone (rather than in any kind of technical bravado—in places he is surprisingly slapdash). Tilson Thomas is by no means outclassed pianistically, though there must be more virtuosic accounts on LP and his interpretation of the Rhapsody is hardly less free of mannerism than are the others (perhaps the details of Gershwin's reading still inhibit him). His performance of the Preludes is not especially distinguished either, but the record still has exceptional interest on account of its hitherto unavailable reconstructions. These are not all intrinsically interesting, but the Melody for Lily Pons is certainly haunting, and the Promenade from Shall we dance? makes a rousing conclusion to the programme. Both CBS and EMI recordings are vivid and realistic.'