This rather unusual disc gathers together a collection of songs 
                  written during the French Revolution (1789-1794). They’re mostly 
                  popular ballads that would have been sung in the streets or, 
                  in some cases, in the private gatherings of those of a particular 
                  political persuasion, such as Royalists who felt unable to articulate 
                  their feelings in public. Most are new words written to accepted 
                  tunes, the better to establish them in the popular consciousness, 
                  and many were written to commemorate significant events. In 
                  fact, this collection runs almost the whole gamut of the revolutionary 
                  experience: there are songs to commemorate the storming of the 
                  Bastille, the establishment of the Republic, the counter-revolutionary 
                  wars and the fall of Robespierre, to name but a few. There are 
                  also songs to engage with the Catholic, Royalist side, lamenting 
                  the end of the monarchy and denouncing the dechristianisation 
                  of France. Most interesting is the final item on the disc, Marseillaise 
                  et Contre Marseillaise, which pairs verses from the French 
                  National Anthem – itself adapted from an armed band, from Marseilles, 
                  that had arrived in Paris to defend the city from the invaders 
                  – with anti-revolutionary propaganda, pitting the two against 
                  each other.
                   
                  The other interesting thing about the disc is the choice of 
                  musical instruments to accompany the songs. These are as ”authentic” 
                  as it’s possible to get, taken as they are from the collection 
                  of the Musée de la Musique. They include the flageolet, serpent 
                  and, best of all, an organised piano – not a keyboard with a 
                  filofax, but a half-way house between an organ and a fortepiano. 
                  It all adds to the flavour of the disc and it’s worth dipping 
                  into, even if it is primarily of historic rather than musical 
                  interest. Few of the numbers have much real musical merit, though 
                  the Hymne à l’hyver anticipates the nature-worship 
                  of many of the later Romantic composers. Performances are good, 
                  if somewhat limited by ham-acting at times. Alpha have given 
                  us a good historical resource, though I suspect that few people 
                  will want to hear it more than a couple of times.
                   
                  Simon Thompson