Few concertos establish a more vivid sense of anticipation than Beethoven does at the start of his Triple Concerto, a melange of memorable themes skilfully built. Once into the fray, the cellist, here an amiable-sounding Sheku Kanneh-Mason, delivers first, with his equally distinctive partners in tow, pianist Benjamin Grosvenor keeping to a moderate tonal palette without compromising his distinctive playing style, violinist Nicola Benedetti sounding silvery-clean, all three attentively supported by the Philharmonia under the vital baton of Santtu-Matias Rouvali. The pulse is constant and so is the sense of dialogue, all three players serving as firsts among equals, the big tutti appearing every now and then to remind us of the main thematic agenda. Unbend the Triple with big personalities and it can topple, but here the balance is absolutely right, a model of judicious pacing, too; there’s character to spare, which is as it should be.

Perhaps the performance’s expressive highlight is at the start of the central Largo, where Kanneh-Mason spins a delicate thread of expressive tone and his playing partners follow suit for a sublime five minutes before the Rondo alla polacca wafts in without a break and the fast string passages segue into what sounds like a single instrument. This is brilliant but refined playing, a joy to hear, though I suspect that there will be times when I’ll crave something more rugged, maybe Giuliano Carmignola, Sol Gabetta and Dejan Lazic´ with Kammerorchester Basel under Giovanni Antonini (Sony, 10/15). Compare the two performances of the finale. But only sometimes. In most respects this can be considered a benchmark Triple.

And the couplings? I would have favoured one of the great piano trios, say Op 70 No 2, which shares with the Triple a certain quirkiness and a deliriously upbeat finale. What we’re actually given is of a different order entirely. Gerald Finley is a fine baritone, no question, but he leads performances of various Beethoven folk-song settings that sound better suited to a recital hall than to a front parlour. ‘Formal’ is how I’d put it. Turn to Thomas Allen and Malcom Martineau (DG) in the first of the settings programmed here, ‘Sunset’ – a miniature masterpiece for sure – and the rhythm lifts, and the tone admits more in the way of light and shade. It’s also a rather more intimate-sounding performance. As for the Kreislers’ arrangement of ‘Londonderry Air’, bland isn’t the word, at least initially: things do improve as the piece progresses. But the impression here is of three fine players caught in a world before their time. It’s a misfit easily put right by visiting Fritz and Hugo Kreisler themselves, easily available online. No, the Triple is the thing, and if that’s your priority, proceed with confidence.