The decade the music died

For much of the past half-century, London has been the world’s orchestral capital. Not always in quality, but numerically without rival. Five full symphony orchestras and twice as many pint-sized ones kept up a constant clamour for attention. Each month brought new recordings with premier artists. Every orchestra had its own ethos, history and thumbprint. The Philharmonia was moulded by Karajan and Klemperer, the London Philharmonic by Boult and Tennstedt, the Royal Philharmonic by Beecham, the BBC by Boulez and the London Symphony Orchestra by its high spirits. Tales abound of maestros departing with a punch on the nose and beer bottles rolling in rehearsal.

All of which added greatly to the sum of human happiness. London musicians, always cheap, learned to be quick. They became the best sight-readers on earth, able to soundtrack a Hollywood film in six hours flat. Abbey Road, round the corner from where I live, had an orchestral pantechnicon out front seven days a week.