With bulky, dry sound and fairly intense delivery, the Tchaikovsky sounds more like a string symphony than a string serenade: Munch drives hard, and his engineers seem unwilling to allow the Bostonians' soft playing to sound soft (those excessively levelled-out dynamics can't all be down to the conductor, surely). But the ''Elegy'' is sincerely heartfelt, and although—again—a conspicuous lack of genuine piano robs it of atmosphere, the I performance works, as does the thrilling finale. Munch's passionate reading of the Barber Adagio was a one-time radio favourite, and rightly so: even now, with countless lustrous rivals readily to hand, its sustained expressive power easily activates the tear-ducts. The Medea extracts were new to me, but I can't imagine that any alternative ''Dance of Vengeance'' (even Mitropoulos's unofficial New York version) is more exciting than this—either for dramatic impact, or orchestral virtuosity.
When it comes to Elgar's Introduction and Allegro, opinion is bound to be divided. It's definitely the view of a man who understands the general drift of the piece, but can't quite get the pacing right: where, say, Barbirolli broadens his step to accommodate the main Allegro's sweeping central theme, Munch stands stiff as a board, like an over-respectful corporal before his sergeant. Otherwise, it's a bold, bracing performance, brilliantly played. Sound-wise, all goes reasonably well, but even within the first seconds of the Serenade, there's some evidence that the tapes aren't quite what they once were.'