Many older readers will, I am sure, remember with me the golden days of mono LP when the first DG issues arrived in their handsome folding yellow sleeves, very elegant and protective. One of the records that caused something of a sensation in the 1950s was Fricsay's mono recording of Tchaikovsky's Pathetique Symphony, a performance of enormous fervour with its underlying neurosis contained by the sheer eloquence of the Berlin Philharmonic playing. Fricsay was a great conductor in the romantic tradition: every bar of his music-making ws alive and whatever flexibility of tempo he allowed, his structural control was never in doubt.

This marvellous performance of the New World Symphony, plus its two superb couplings, makes an ideal memento of his art. His unashamed use of rubato and accelerando although now unfashionable is wholly convincing. In the first movement (given, as was usual in those days without exposition repeat) the preparation for the second subject group is wonderfully affectionate, with the ritenuto most subtly managed, so that it becomes part of the musical fabric. There is the sweetest flute solo, then the strings caress the melody beguilingly and the recapitulation is, if anything, even more magical. The great Largo opens with the Berlin brass very relaxed and sonorous, and the cor anglais solo is very gentle, the effect quite luminous, the whole movement is imbued with affectionate warmth, with the reprise very hushed and tender. The Scherzo bright-eyed and lightly rhythmic, its dance rhythms sparkling, while the Trio brings a marked slowing of pace and a charming indulgence which makes the woodwind sound particularly folksy. The finale has a splendid swing, the Berlin strings bringing an exhilarating bite to their articulation of the main theme. But for all the excitement, with the brass blazing in a special Fricsayan way, the element of nostalgia is hardly less telling.

The couplings are an inspired choice. There simply is no better account of Les preludes, in the catalogue. It is an unfashionable view to consider this the finest of Liszt's symphonic poems, alongside Mazeppa, but in Fricsay's hands it is a masterpiece, played expansively—the pastoral interlude has the most engaging detail and freshness—and with the same degree of fervour that made Fricsay's Pathetique so memorable. Yet in the solemn reflective central passages for strings and horns, the orchestral eloquence is most moving, while the climax has dignity without blatancy. There are many ways of approaching "Vltava", but Fricsay treats the river as if it were in full flood. The whole piece moves forward in a single sweep—the lively village wedding dance on the banks sounds as if plenty of wine had been flowing—with the St John's rapids given the spectacle of Niagara. Yet the moonlight on the water gleams iridescently—a loving interlude.