In February’s Gramophone, Rob Cowan remarked that ‘the prospect of actually listening to Beethoven never loses appeal’. It doesn’t for me, either, and it’s also clear that The Lindsays approach Beethoven’s quartets with undiminished enthusiasm. This is immediately apparent in the physical energy with which they attack the opening of Op 95. Along with enthusiasm comes a deep understanding, expressed most strikingly in the way their fine internal balance is adapted to allow important subsidiary lines to make their effect. Nothing as crude as making a decision to ‘bring out’ an inner part; just the feeling that each player knows how much pressure is needed to fulfil a line’s potential. Such expressive detail allied to a lovely dolce sound makes a contrapuntal movement like Op 95’s Allegretto especially memorable.

The Lindsays aren’t, I suppose, the smoothest, slickest ensemble to have recorded this music. In the Scherzo of Op 95 the Quartetto Italiano’s tone is more blemish-free, and the fast coda to this quartet’s finale sees the Emerson Quartet create a more brilliant, sparkling impression. But such things only become noticeable with comparative listening; if you stick with The Lindsays what will impress you is the splendid rhythm and drive of the Op 95 Scherzo, the magnificent, rich sound, without any sense of aggressiveness or strain, at the start of Op 127, the way the expression is sustained throughout the great adagio variations of Op 127, and the delicate, magical atmosphere established at the beginning of this quartet’s final section.

As it nears completion, The Lindsays’ second Beethoven set, we can see, will be distinctive and deeply satisfying.