Danny Elfman’s concerto for orchestra Wunderkammer was written for the National Youth Orchestra and clearly designed to stretch and stimulate young imaginations – to say nothing of techniques. It’s a kind of Rubik’s cube of orchestral possibilities. The title may suggest a ‘room of wonders’ but the fun part comes with the way in which magic casements open on to worlds beyond it.

Percussion – some of it tuned – is the engine room of the first movement propelling us forward until in one glorious moment a whole vista opens before us – a kind of Bluebeard’s Castle fifth door chord sequence – only to vanish into the ether as quickly as it arrived. And yes, before you ask, Elfman’s signature wordless childlike voices are briefly in the mix, too. The second movement takes us deeper, emotionally speaking, with mystical winds and then strings searching out higher ground, and the third is a whirling carousel of triple-time with solo piano alluding towards a salon-like decorum at one point. Collectively and soloistically the Royal Liverpool Philharmonic under the dynamic JoAnn Falletta get to enjoy second childhoods and show off as once the NYO so enthusiastically did.

The Percussion Concerto was like so much of this repertoire inspired and initiated by the Scottish virtuoso Colin Currie and in time-honoured tradition Elfman hitches strings to percussion with piano again taking its rightful place in the family. It has a lot to do here and spars enthusiastically with its fellow travellers, especially the tuned variety. In the outer movements what you might call a maximisation of the minimalistically motoric makes for an infectious confection which keeps Currie on the move. Only the slow movement ‘Down’ seeks out repose as strings take the lead and tuned percussion – like the seductive marimba – lend embellishment and shimmer. I love the spooky John Carpenter-like ending of this movement. Pure Elfman.

The final piece is a short choral piece Are You Lost? from Elfman’s song-cycle Trio. It is in French and sounds French and women’s voices again invoke that Elfmanesque airborne quality which is fantastical in itself, though this time the images are in one’s head not up there on the silver screen. After 115-plus movies Elfman can’t help but make pictures of sound and the fabulous engineering here certainly makes them pop.