The current Gramophone Classical Catalogue contains little competition for this generous introduction to the fashionable, Roaring Twenties aspect of Schulhoff's art. His anarchic Piano Concerto has been recorded before, but Decca's version seems marginally the more cogent, even if the lack of clarity I noted in Jan Simon's performance is not entirely avoided here. Perhaps it's simply that the composer's provocative hotchpotch isn't designed to achieve maximum limpidity; one can imagine the results getting a rapturous reception at a Prom concert. The Double Concerto receives the lion's share of attention in the insert-note, but its busy, neo-classical contortions seem rather less personal to this listener. The self-consciously lucid, 'Frenchified' manner is undermined by the presence of two horns in the accompanying string orchestra texture, and the bustling, motoric finale is not quite fresh enough – even these players sound a little tired. As usual, Schulhoff seems to be raiding the archetypes without forging a truly personal style. He likes nothing better than to undermine the integrity of his own vision, ''stepping on the throat of his own song'' like a Prokofiev whose melodic gift has temporarily abandoned him.
Much the most substantial and challenging work is the Concerto for String Quartet, where Schulhoff adopts a tougher idiom, drawing equally from Stravinsky and Hindemith in the abstracted, sometimes 'archaic' accompaniment for wind ensemble. Its slow movement is particularly striking and, although the finale restores a jazz element, the sense of continuity is unimpaired. Decca return us to the Jazz Age with a fascinating collection of the composer's own recordings as pianist. No surface noise has been eliminated unnecessarily and the piano tone is excellent.
To sum up, I can only report that I was in two minds about this disc. The composer's voice is sufficiently ambiguous to keep monotony at bay but there isn't much in the way of profundity. Over to you!'