In the Brahms Second Quartet the Takacs find a most appealing lightness of touch. They reveal anew the extraordinarily imaginative way in which the work begins, and breathe air into the intricate textures which precede the vacillating second theme. There’s an absolute unanimity to their playing, as there was in the Emerson’s recent set, but here I find a greater liveliness of approach. Compared to such groups as the Alban Berg, who revel in the lushness of Brahms’s writing, the Takacs are more febrile and transparent. Their third movement creeps in, skittering, but there’s no lack of sweetness of tone when required (such as in the glorious slow movement). And the fugal section has a spring in its step. Brahms isn’t all seriousness, they remind us.

The other major selling-point of this disc is the Piano Quintet, for which the Tak·cs are joined by Stephen Hough. This was also included in the Emerson’s set, with the distinguished American Leon Fleisher. I found that reading, though unquestionably beautifully wrought, a touch cosier than my benchmark – Maurizio Pollini’s Gramophone Award-winning reading with the Quartetto Italiano. But there’s nothing cosy about this latest reading, which has fire and passion aplenty, and the recording places Hough pleasingly within the overall texture rather than unduly spotlighting him. There’s a feeling of coming together of ideas, with these artists – masters of colour all of them – sparking off one another in a very unstudio-ish way. And throughout, Hough’s virtuosity makes light of Brahms’s unforgiving textures. If I still find Pollini and the Italianos (who offer no coupling) unrivalled in their soul-baring start to the finale, that’s not to say this new recording doesn’t deserve a place on the shelf alongside that classic reading.