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There is no end to the number of tribute albums fashioned by musical artists old and new to past masters of the popular song, but Kurt Weill remains perhaps the most intriguing of popular songwriters. Born in Germany in 1900, the son of a cantor, Weill made for himself a career as a composer encompassing more emotional, political and musical terrain than perhaps any of his contemporaries. Weill's music is peculiar to his time, but it is also peculiar, and the undying appeal of his dark, louche music has proven irresistible to a new generation of artists eager to establish their legitimacy via the performance of Weill's realmusik. (Concurrent with the attraction of Weill's fundamentally classical music is the proto-punk polemicism of Bertolt Brecht's lyrics; ironically, political differences broke up this most intriguing of artistic partnerships, which barely lasted two years but which yielded a king's ransom of world theater work, most notably "The Threepenny Opera," a scathing revision of eighteenth century English playwright John Gay's "The Beggars Opera." It earned Weill and Brecht the undying enmity of the National Socialist Party. Mission accomplished.)

"September Songs: The Music of Kurt Weill" (Sony Classical) is the soundtrack to a 1996 PBS series created by Larry Weinstein called "September Songs" and a follow-up to a similar tribute to Weill in 1985, "Lost in the Stars." Both albums were coordinated by avant-guard producer Hal Willner. (Weinstein's film "32 Short Films About Glenn Gould" documented in similar form the life and work of one of the world's most gifted---and eccentric---pianists.) It hardly comes as a surprise to learn that artists as disparate and non-mainstream as Lou Reed, Marianne Faithfull, Tom Waits, Elvis Costello and The Brodsky String Quartet, P.J. Harvey, Teresa Stratas, Betty Carter, Charlie Haden, Bob Dorough and Nick Cave were drawn to Weinstein and Willner's Weill projects; were Jim Morrison still alive, he might conceivably have been persuaded to revise his 60's take on Weill and Brecht's "Alabama Song" as well. It also comes as no surprise that some artists fare better with Weill's elegantly bizarre music than do others, but even to fail at such an attempt is noble, somehow. That the attempt was made at all speaks well of the artist. Having said that, I hasten to add that I could have lived quite well without Nick Cave's pseudo-Morrison posturing on Weill's immortal "Mack the Knife," the album's first number, annoying English lyrics and all. (Brecht's original German lyrics are trenchant and gruesome; in English, they sound merely silly, especially if one is not familiar with "The Threepenny Opera" anti-hero Macheath.) Cave would do well to remember that Weill's music is a challenge to rise to, not to wrestle to the floor in a lather of self-indulgent caterwauling. (Accompanying players Spanish Fly and Kenny Wolleson are fine.) Rock singer P.J. Harvey fares far better with her eerie reading of Weill's "Ballad of the Soldier's Wife." The music is beyond Harvey's vocal capabilities (as indeed it was, and is, for some of the greatest Weill interpreters) but her flat, dark delivery and minimalist rock accompaniment are perfectly appropriate for the song's somber emotional tone. It is an actress's song, and Harvey sells it honestly and convincingly.

Ex-New York Doll David Johansen (a.k.a. Buster Poindexter) takes on "Alabama Song" with typical verve and audacity, and it is an oddball, joyous rendition. Accompanied by singer Ellen Shipley, pianist Bob Dorough and arranger Ralph Schuckett, Johansen sings Weill as though he were born to the job. Opera diva Teresa Stratas WAS born to the job, and her legit readings of "Youkali" and "Surabaya Johnny" are welcome additions.

Elvis Costello's voice is all but dwarfed by the immensely difficult melodic demands of "Lost in the Stars," but his impassioned delivery is right on the money, and the Brodsky String Quartet provides a gorgeous chamber accompaniment. As often happens, Weill's music is bigger than the singer who attempts it, but Costello loses no face in the trying. It is obvious that he loves the song, and he serves the music soulfully and correctly. Lotte Lenya's version of "Pirate Jenny" (in German) is the definitive one, and I doubt that there are many Weill devotees who are not already familiar with it, but its inclusion here is most welcome, particularly in light of the song which follows it, bassist Charlie Haden's moody treatment of one of Weill's most beautiful and popular songs, "Speak Low," during which Haden is joined by a recording of Weill himself singing the song. Hearing Weill sing is extraordinarily moving (he sounds not unlike a male version of his beloved wife Lenya) and it is perhaps the CD's most beautiful moment.

Brooklyn doo-wop group The Persuasions deliver what is really the recording's most daring and original treatment of a Weill song, a stunning and stately "Oh Heavenly Salvation" that would bring ?em running from every corner of Bed-Stuy. Jazz legend Betty Carter sings "Lonely House" with great intelligence and restraint. Singer Mary Margaret O'Hara delivers a spare, spooky and weird "Furchte dich nicht," while Lou Reed's virtual rewrite of "September Song" might leave the Weill aficionado wondering where on earth the melody got to. It is Lou Reed being the quintessential Lou Reed and has little to do with Weill's exquisite song---fortunately, the song's bittersweet message survives even Reed's eccentric handling and extraneous poeticizing, which says infinitely more about the integrity of Weill's music than it does for Reed.

Bertolt Brecht himself singing "Mack the Knife" (in German) is another of the album's historical delights (so THAT is what Ernie Kovacs was playing on his show!) Brecht's crisp diction and dramatically rolled Rs have become the model for subsequent performances of this song, and it is great fun to hear. Beat icon William S. Burroughs rounds off the recording with his hair-raising recitation of Brecht's merciless political screed "What Keeps Mankind Alive?", accompanied by the intriguingly named Selfhaters Orchestra. Any more of this sort of stuff and the recording would verge on the unbearable; in this small dose, it provides just the right amount of Brechtian abrasiveness to remind us that, for all of the beauty of Weill's music, it was still ABOUT something. Attention must be paid.

FOUR STARS

JULIA OLIVAREZ

Check out track samples and other info for September Songs on Music Boulevard.