THE BEST OF THE SEVENTIES

CLASSICAL Berlioz, Les Troyens (Philips, 5 LPs, 1970). Berlioz's grandest opera, powerfully conducted by his finest current interpreter, Colin Davis.

Stravinsky, Le Sacre du Printemps (Columbia, 1970). Under the baton of that red-blooded logician, Pierre Boulez, all is rite in Stravinsky's polysavage modern classic.

Haydn, The Complete Symphonies (London, 48 LPs, 1971-75). Antal Dorati's stylish compilation of the 104 symphonies reveals the Papa Haydn of legend as a supremely virile innovator.

Charles Ives, The 100th Anniversary (Columbia, 5 LPs, 1974). A comprehensive survey of the fiercely original and patriotic works that made this stubborn Yankee America's first great composer.

Wagner, Die Meistersinger (London, 5 LPs, 1976). The man who led the first recorded Ring cycle, Sir Georg Solti, turns from gods and heroes to a warm, glowing account of everyday life in old Nuernberg.

Beethoven, The Nine Symphonies (Deutsche Grammophon, 8 LPs, 1977). The seasoned mastery of Herbert von Karajan and the Berlin Philharmonic paradoxically retains a youthful surge and freshness.

Gershwin, Porgy and Bess (RCA, 3 LPs, 1977). Gershwin always said that Porgy was an opera, and here, in the Houston Opera production, is the proof.

Beethoven, The Late Piano Sonatas (Deutsche Grammophon, 3 LPs, 1978). The majesty and mystery of these performances show why Maurizio Pollini moved into the front rank of pianists during the decade.

Beethoven, Sonatas for Violin and Piano (London, 5 LPs, 1978). One plus one equals one as Virtuosos Itzhak Perlman and Vladimir Ashkenazy play with seamless unity.

Berg, Lulu (Deutsche Grammophon, 4 LPs, 1979). With the completion of the third act by Friedrich Cerha, a masterpiece of 20th century opera stands fully revealed at last.

ROCK The Who, Who's Next (MCA, 1971). "Meet the new boss/ Same as the old boss." The once and future rock band.

The Rolling Stones, Sticky Fingers (Rolling Stones Records, 1971). Great lyric flights and glorious gutter ballads, from Moonlight Mile to Brown Sugar. This is bloodthirsty rock 'n' roll from the Mick Jagger-Keith Richard period.

Van Morrison, Saint Dominic's Preview (Warner Bros., 1972). Morrison is tuned to a station that does not come through on anyone else's radio. This album contains some of his most lilting music, underlining visionary lyrics of Celtic mystery.

Randy Newman, Sail Away (Reprise/Warner Bros., 1972). Songs and japes that plunge straight into the deepest shadows of the American spirit. Randy Newman puts some of the '70s most devastating satire onto record.

The Harder They Come (Mango, 1973). The best soul music of the '70s is reggae, and this collection--a sound-track album from a mean-strutting movie--is some of the best of the best.

Ry Cooder, Paradise and Lunch (Reprise/Warner Bros., 1974). The guitarist-singer's loveliest diversion of various musical undercurrents (from gospel to Burt Bacharach to R. and B.) into a free-flowing mainstream.

Bruce Springsteen, Born to Run (Columbia, 1975). In the middle of the middle year of the decade, Bruce Springsteen turned everything around. This is music full of triumph.

Warren Zevon (Asylum, 1976). If a Black Mask writer studied Stravinsky, turned to rock and set down his hard-boiled romances on a piano played by shooting the keys with a .44 Magnum, he'd sound a little like Warren Zevon. Just a little. Rock of rare recklessness and unguarded sentiment.

The Clash, Give 'Em Enough Rope (Epic, 1978). Politicized punk, the musical equivalent of being roughed-up in a back alley. R.I.P. the Sex Pistols.

Neil Young & Crazy Horse, Rust Never Sleeps (Reprise/Warner Bros., 1979). Young's songs are benedictions at the end of a long, troubled night. This album strikes a neat balance between reverie and delirium.

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