Performer-originated concert music tends to land itself lukewarm press notices. Think of works by Klemperer, Kubelík, Bruno Walter, Weingartner, Furtwängler and others. Violinist and quartet leader Adolf Busch, a colleague of Max Reger, is a cut above the rest, his musical structures rigorous and true, his thematic material tuneful and memorable.

Although reminiscent of both Brahms and Reger – the latter a significant influence who had been ‘enchanted’ when he heard the young Adolf Busch perform his Violin Concerto – Adolf’s own Piano Concerto, composed just over a century ago (for Rudolf Serkin), is very different to the works of either of his noted forebears. Yes, there’s plenty to keep both hands more or less constantly busy, and its harmonic language subscribes to the principles of outreaching German late Romanticism (albeit that chimes with Brahms rather than with Wagner), but Busch’s writing, where solo and tutti passages alternate with relative frequency, confirms a genuine dialogue charged with energy, syncopations (sample 7'44" into the sonata-form first movement) and a striking if leanly stated manner of rhetoric. The Vogtland Philharmonie Greiz/Reichenbach under David Marlow provide pianist Florence Millet with solid support.

The Andante second movement is more like a whimsical intermezzo, whereas the finale, like the first movement, tots up a timing that hovers around the quarter-of-an-hour mark. Here a dry manner of playfulness takes centre stage, although there’s plenty of more contemplative music to vary the mood. First impressions of the Concerto are favourable (I’m on my third hearing of the piece), especially if, like me, you’re a dedicated Regerian.

The solo pieces that follow the Concerto find Florence Millet sounding caught in a mood of enthusiastic reverie. For example, the Agitato of 1909 blossoms like late Brahms, quite unlike the Stück in A minor (1916), which sounds more like a cadenza fragment. Busch’s ability to work variety into a short space of musical time is illustrated by his Variations in B flat of 1920, while the nine-minute Suite, Op 60b, would happily grace any recital programme as an encore. These pieces and more are very nicely played by Millet, who is well recorded. Certainly worth a listen.