Composed between 1900 and 1907, Sappho is a cycle of nine songs for mezzo-soprano and orchestra with a vivid symphonic prologue. One could describe the score as a celebration of Eros, by turns radiant and gloomy, that never quite subverts the cozy decorum of the Edwardian parlor--or, if one prefers, as a celebration of the added-sixth chord. Bantock"s musical language owes a lot to the second acts of Tristan and Parsifal; it has points of contact with early Scriabin, Strauss, and Puccini; and every now and then it hints at Rimsky"s oriental splendor. But the cycle as a whole is tightly crafted, and the individual songs are set like gems. Bantock knew his stuff. It"s hard to imagine the music receiving a finer performance than it gets here. A large share of the credit goes to Handley, a superb conductor all but unknown in this country and sadly underappreciated in his own, who coaxes radiant work from the Royal Philharmonic and partners mezzo Susan Bickley with exquisite aplomb. Bickley, who might just become the next Janet Baker, holds up her end heroically, delivering the taxing solo part with compelling expressiveness. Her voice sounds a little overmiked, carrying over Bantock"s heaving textures in a way that would never happen in the concert hall; aside from that, Hyperion"s sonics are spectacular. The RPO"s seating is crystal clear: violins split left and right, cellos inside the firsts and violas inside the seconds, basses on the far right, winds center, horns and harp back left, and heavy brass and percussion--including a stunningly well-registered bass drum--back right. Solo instruments are beautifully imaged, and the string, wind, and brass tone is glorious. Kudos to engineer Tony Faulkner. The filler, Bantock"s lightly scored Sapphic Poem for cello and orchestra, fails to make much of an impression--though whether the fault lies with the composer, or the anemic playing of soloist Julian Lloyd Webber, is hard to say. --Ted Libbey