By Steven Suskin
06 Jul 2008
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More reissues of out-of-print CD versions of out-of-print LPs have come our way, which brings up a philosophical question. Imagine something like the original cast recording of Rodgers & Hammerstein's South Pacific. The one with Mary Martin and Ezio Pinza, if you can remember back that far. There are at least a few readers of this column who bought this on those cumbersome 78 RPM platters in 1949, back before many of us were born even. A few years later, they upgraded to the heavy LP platter with the dark blue label and the "anchor" cover. In 1962 they switched to the modern Masterworks LP with the gatefold packaging, featuring a nice color photo of Mary and Ezio (with "Honey Bun") on the back; sometime later, you switched to the enhanced-for-stereo version without the gatefold. The fifth South Pacific purchase — not including the motion picture soundtrack or the Florence Henderson-Giorgio Tozzi Lincoln Center revival — was the 1988 CD release (which for reasons unknown included a sonic burp within "Carefully Taught"). Imagine, all that music which initially took up those six two-sided 78s — and all that shelf-space — now in a little tiny jewel-box. Time to reconfigure your shelving. And then came a technologically superior CD in 1993, which took care of poor Bill Tabbert's blip; and finally, in 1998, a newly-restored, state-of-the-art CD with bonus tracks and everything [Sony/Columbia SK 60722].
That's seven servings of Mary & Ezio's South Pacific. The 1998 edition, of course, is the last word in technology and shall never be surpassed. Or will it? Consumers marveled when they brought out that stereo-enhanced recording, and eagerly paraded to Sam Goody's to add it to their shelf. What makes us think that something new and "better" won't come along?
With each new issue one was faced with the same question: worth getting? Do I need it? Do I really need it? The best answer, generally, was a simple question: how frequently do you listen to the album in question? If South Pacific or Gypsy or Sweeney is repeatedly on your CD player (or record player, if you ever had a record player), then you're bound to want the next iteration. With respect to South Pacific, the most ardent lover of the score might in retrospect have done well enough without the enhanced stereo LP or the 1993 CD release.
These are a far cry from the South Pacifics of the world, where the record companies were looking for a reason to get their customers to buy yet another copy of something that was still in the stores. The shows in question, in the present case, are something else. Three unsuccessful musicals that were — in truth — not very good; but three cast albums with obvious reasons for a discerning musical theatre fan to want to hear them.
Readers of this column fall into two overlapping categories. Musical theatre enthusiasts who have been buying everything that comes out as it comes out, and who thus already have these cast albums in their prior carnations (and, in some cases, five or six versions of the 1949 South Pacific). Their immediate question is, as stated, do I need to plunk down the money for these new CDs? In what ways do they differ from the last, and is the difference enough?
However, there is another category of readers here; the Broadway musical fanbase has always attracted "new" people, chronologically or otherwise, without whom the whole field would have shriveled up and collapsed years ago. People who — yes — have never heard A or B or C, and who have nevertheless managed to survive. Maybe they were only 12 when the first of these was CD'd in 1993; or maybe, regardless of age, they just plain weren't interested back then. For these readers, the release of these three CDs is of decidedly different importance than it is to those of us who bought them as soon as they came out last time around.
The shows combine to make an odd assortment of mid-century musicals. Continued...



