Haydn symphonies have tended to be a bit of a graveyard when it comes to recordings: think of the promising cycles that didn’t quite make the finishing line, notably those of Kuijken, Hogwood and Goodman – and that was when the record business was still in relatively rude health. So Shelley has played it safe in choosing the famed “London” Symphonies for his first outing as a Haydn conductor. The Orchestra della Svizzera Italiana is finely honed and the rapport is evident, with unfailingly fine and musicianly playing.

But is that enough? Maybe I’ve been listening to too much Harnoncourt, but these seem slightly old-fashioned in their outlook. The composer’s anarchic side is relatively underplayed, whether the Beethovenian No 98, the outlandish joker in such movements as the apparently serene Largo cantabile of No 93, or the parodic quasi-rustic minuets of Nos 103 and 104, which are here too urbane by half.

Of course you can overdo the jokes. There’s nothing more stale than a Surprise with every loud chord overprojected. But I think it’s possible to extract more glee from the dots on the page. There’s also something else missing: energy. For me, these symphonies – particularly the finales – need to fizz and thrill, virtually kicking down the bar-lines in their exuberance. But, whether in the propulsive dotted rhythms of No 100 or the hunting-horn buoyancy of No 103, Shelley’s readings are simply too well-mannered.

He’s at his best in the slower music, whether the opening salvos of No 99 and 102 or the unfurling lines of the introduction to No 97, and in balancing textures and dynamics, such as in the famed slow movement of the Clock (No 101).

So a near miss, despite an illuminating essay by Haydn scholar Richard Wigmore. It says much of the Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra that they feature on two of the best – though radically different – versions on offer: Harnoncourt, exaggerations notwithstanding, for a reminder of Haydn the rebel, Davis for symphonic scope and vigorous characterisation.