As APR’s note says, we tend to remember Cyril Smith (1909 74) as the pianist who overcame a stroke in 1956 by forming a hugely successful duo for three hands with his wife, Phyllis Sellick. The recordings he made before this tragedy tend to have been forgotten. On the evidence of this wonderful collection, a real feather in APR’s cap, there is no doubt of Smith’s stature in last century’s pianistic pantheon.

It begins with what is surely one of the finest and most daring of Islameys on record. He takes Balakirev’s 12/16 at a crisp two-in-a-bar – no need to put the brakes on anywhere – but then how languorously he takes the second section. This is no stitched-together, over-edited selection from various attempts but an account that underlines the authentic performance aspect of shellac discs: two sides, both some 4'10" in length, played with unerring accuracy, incredible risk-taking and intense musicality.

Islamey is followed by the second of the Friedman/Gärtner Viennese Dances – preferable, in my view, to Friedman’s own recording – a stunning Rubinstein Staccato Étude, the unusual Polonaise from Bliss’s Suite for piano (Smith’s only Decca recording) and Schubert’s G flat Impromptu. The latter is the most moving account I have ever heard, a yearning song of lost love and regret – and another reason to acquire this set. I was less convinced by the Chopin items. The gondolier of the Barcarolle, for instance, encounters some mountainous waves halfway through, in an account that more resembles one of the Ballades. The Albéniz items are simply delightful.

The second CD has one of the most quicksilver – and altogether remarkable – accounts of Rachmaninov’s Paganini Rhapsody. It ends with the composer’s Second Piano Concerto. Both are conducted supremely well by Sargent. A noticeable feature of Smith’s performance in the latter, aided and abetted by the Liverpool orchestra’s strings, is his ability to produce huge swells of emotion from the lyrical second subjects, beginning slowly and deadpan before accelerating, an effect I find most affecting. In between the two are five sparkling encores, including the alla marcia G minor Prelude of Rachmaninov, given a sprightly regimental swagger. Almost every 78 original on this CD is a first take.

Disc 3 opens with what is undoubtedly among the most exuberant and witty accounts of Dohnányi’s sadly neglected Variations on a Nursery Song. It was recorded in 1944 in Liverpool’s Philharmonic Hall with Sargent – far better than Smith’s remake a decade later. As I said in my Gramophone Collection of August 2017 (APR’s transfer was unavailable at the time): ‘It had been in Smith’s repertoire since 1930 and experience shows.’ The same composer’s Capriccio in F minor follows (Smith’s very first recording, made in 1929), dispatched at breakneck speed, and his transcription of Delibes’s Naïla Waltz (another from 1944). The rest of the disc is devoted to Rachmaninov’s Third Piano Concerto. It’s a fast, fearless, furious ride marred by some balance problems and approximate moments of ensemble. Despite memorable moments (try the heaven-storming cadenza), the whole performance doesn’t quite cut the mustard.

Don’t let that put you off. With Stephen Siek’s excellent booklet, this is a must for all pianophiles.