I fount myself unable to avoid sports analogies as I sought the best way to convey the essence of this disc. The whole undertaking has the flavor of an unknown gladiator swaggering into the pianistic arena, confident that she can match fingers with anyone. And she can, too. Scores of practice-room bred conservatory graduates could probably manage a passable rendition of this knuckle-busting program. Far fewer could come anywhere near this level of fiery elan. The cover boldly proclaims that tliese are unedited renditions, and there are just enough missed notes to give the claim credibility. Perhaps that accounts for some of the electricity. Unlike many with amazing techniques, Lisitsa doesn't sound the least bit over-refined or mechanical. Instead, she apparently throws caution to the winds and pushes herself to the very limits of speed and power. Everything here, except for a couple of the introspective Schubert songs, is breathless and breathtaking.

Reason does raise a few reservations about this one-sided approach. Many of the musicians and music lovers I respect would likely turn up their noses: Too fast! Too noisy! Poor taste! So should I join the gainsayers in my imaginary listening circle? After all, Ms Lisitsa's habit of flooring the damper pedal in furious climaxes rather resembles what a rice car driver does with his right foot. Make no mistake, if you want these pieces with the emphasis on subtlety and finesse, this is not the place to look. My intent is less to point out shortcomings than to make perfectly clear what's on this disc: unapologetic and undiluted bravura pianism. Whatever it may lack, Lisitsa's playing held me on the edge of my seat; when I first put this on to sample it, I couldn't tear myself away. Whether she would be convincing in Beethoven or Mozart is an interesting question—but perhaps irrelevant, for young Valentina Lisitsa plays this stuff like a woman possessed. And Audiofon's realistic, wide-range sound assures full visceral impact. A prime piano party record!