This is the other, virtually unknown side of Donald Swann, remembered so fondly for his partnership with Michael Flanders. Here is Swann in what he called his ‘Lieder style’. Very classical and serious – and hard to pin down, such is the diversity of influences at work in what is, however, an unmistakably English voice, one in the tradition of Quilter, Butterworth and, most especially, Britten. What is surprising among his settings of poets as diverse as Burns, Blake and Byron, Rilke, Hesse and Heine is that there is little evidence of Swann the memorable melodist, the composer of ‘Slow train’, one of the most evocative English songs ever written. The strophic form of most Flanders & Swann songs inspired tunes. Here he is concerned with words, the text leading the texture.

This is a collection to dip into, not, I would suggest, to be heard at one fell swoop. The appeal of each song must be a matter of personal taste. I found myself drawn far more to the earlier ones – ‘Dark rose of my heart’ (words by Francis Scarfe) is an impassioned spine-tingler that reduced me to tears, ‘A red, red rose’ (Burns) a touching alternative to the traditional setting – less so to the later ones with their solemn texts, much concerned with death and dying, and their austere and even dissonant accompaniments.

The Six Songs to Poems by William Blake could almost be Britten/Pears pastiches, and you will have a happy time with Roderick Williams and John Mark Ainsley if that world appeals. Some settings don’t work. Betjeman’s ‘A Subaltern’s Love Song’ (‘Miss Joan Hunter-Dunn’) is robbed of all its essential joie de vivre by Swann’s setting, not helped by the microphone placement. Potton Hall’s acoustic is made far too swimmy for such intimate, word-focused miniatures, though improving adjustments were clearly made over the three different sessions to reduce this effect (Dame Felicity and Kathryn Rudge are the main beneficiaries) and with the piano less separated from the singer. In addition, many of the songs’ codas demand full-throttle delivery in the upper registers (especially for the men). This can become wearisome.

Despite these reservations, however, this is a continually fascinating and diverse selection of 46 songs (from over 600) which recitalists and Lieder lovers will lap up, for there are many buried treasures here. The real star of the show is Christopher Glynn, for whom the project has evidently been a labour of love. The detail and colour of his playing (to say nothing of the way he meets the many technical challenges Swann presents with a knowing wink) in the more than two hours of accompaniments is a fine achievement. If that were not enough, he also contributes a first-class (English only) booklet which comes with all the song texts.