The Albion Quartet, formed as recently as 2016, are a group of young Brits led by Tamsin Waley-Cohen. In a crowded field of youthful quartets, it says much that the Albion have already appeared at illustrious venues such as the Concertgebouw and Wigmore Hall. But it’s also in the nature of quartets that they can take time to settle, and Rosalind Ventris – characterful viola player and note-writer on this recording – is alas no longer part of the line-up.

This is to be the start of a Dvořák cycle and they begin with the Fifth, Op 9, written in 1873 (don’t be misled by that fact that it’s listed wrongly on the CD as ‘F major, Op 92’ rather than F minor, Op 9). The players make a strong case for this youthful piece, powerfully refuting the notion that it took time for Dvořák to hit his stride in the quartets and symphonies. They have a very airy quality to their sound (how I’d like to hear them in Mendelssohn), while their attention to the smallest detail reaps dividends, making the first movement sound not a whit too long. There’s a murmuring intimacy to their playing in the second, compared to which the Vlach Quartet Prague are a little more luxuriant in depth of sound and slightly more spacious in tempo. The brief Tempo di valse has a nervousness, with the first violin colouring her line with subtle portamentos, while the finale is high on energy but just occasionally could have done with more weight in the tuttis.

The Albion’s approach to the American, from 20 years later, is similar, with a fastidiousness to ensemble and texture. Yet here I find myself less convinced: there’s an essential warmth and ease that is found in the greatest interpretations – often by Czech quartets – which the Albion can’t quite match. At the start of the Lento, for instance, the first violin takes centre stage, with the remaining three players mere shadowy presences, whereas in the accounts by the Pavel Haas Quartet and the kampa there’s more sense of give and take. I could have done with more blatant rusticity to the Scherzo, too, which is a bit too spick and span for my tastes. The Albion pace themselves well in the finale but again they’re less characterful than the kampa, in particular, and the closing moments don’t quite find enough sense of unfettered exuberance. They end with Suk’s beautiful Meditation on ‘St Wenceslas’, which they deliver with great poise.