There was a time when I would buy a recording not knowing a note of the music, and rely on the sleeve-notes for guidance. When the written description of the music did not match what I was experiencing, I assumed the inadequacy was mine. I have nothing but praise for Robert Dearling's extensive and entertaining notes accompanying this disc; the problem is that some of the descriptions could be referring to a different piece of music altogether. Listening to Groves's delicate but very relaxed Scherzo, one is scarcely aware of its ''grand sweep'' or ''headlong rhythmic drive''. Again the finale's reiterated rhythms lack sufficient energy and attack—analogies for the second subject like ''a runaway train'' or Tovey's ''momentum of a planet in its orbit'' seem over imaginative to say the least. Compare Krips (whose 1958 recording was recently reissued in Decca's mid-price Historic series) in this finale's coda: those thrice repeated, four octave unison Cs are pounded out with a force that would be welcomed in The Rite of Spring.
There's more to this work than rhythmic drive, of course, and Sir Charles's is a balanced account of the score that starts well with a properly accented opening horn theme, and avoids damaging fluctuations of tempo. But, by today's standards, the speeds seem rather deliberate, particularly the finale. Although the Gramophone Award-winning Abbado on DG is often slower, there's an alertness that keeps his performance on the move. Groves is very matter of fact in the numbed response to the Andante's tragic climax (at 9'15''), which marches on at more or less the same tempo as the rest of the movement; even Norrington (EMI) allows himself expressive freedom here. And the English Sinfonia strings rarely provide playing that is more than adequate—for modern instruments there is a surprising lack of body for the maestoso statement of the opening horn call at the end of the first movement, and the cellos canonic imitation of the violins in the Scherzo's second theme (0'25'') is very weak.
Groves is generous with repeats; Bernstein (DG) and Krips rather mean, but Krips's disc also includes a worthwhile Schumann No. 4, and despite its age, his is the Great C major I would recommend at mid price. For a modern recording of a modern instruments version, Bernstein and Abbado still head the list. But it's time to nail my colours to the mast: Abbey Road was the location for the admirably clear Pickwick recording for Groves, though how much more detail emerges on the Mackerras (Virgin Classics) and Norrington period performances also recorded there. This may be due in part to the extra suitability of 'authentic' instruments for the purpose. My guess is that it has more to do with the extra commitment of artists and engineers to the project: in both versions there is a trail blazing, missionary zeal which confirms Norrington's remark about the work: ''the thing's so alive''. Another suitable epigram for Norrington's performance might be 'the swing's the thing' and having been qualified in my welcome for his other Schubert and Schumann symphonies recently, I can confidently report that his brisk tempos and careful balancing of his forces seem exactly right (Mackerras's first movement is flat footed by comparison and his often untamed brass lose their appeal very quickly). Indeed it is Norrington who most effectively provides an aural equivalent to match the seemingly extravagant descriptions beloved of sleeve-note writers.'