What better way to mark the half-century celebration of Blackburn Cathedral’s groundbreaking and iconic JW Walker instrument of 1969 than by listening to this stunning recording, played by the current organist and Director of Music, John Robinson. His lockdown labours have resulted in an ideal mix of the new, the daring, the entertaining and a classic masterpiece. This is also an engineering triumph for Regent’s Gary Cole, who has vividly captured every corner of the building and organic colour, including the stunning 32ft Serpent stop.

Jonathan Harvey’s Laus Deo (1969) makes a sparkling opener – a piece inspired by a dream in which a shimmering cinquecento angel played an organ. Composed for the late and much-lamented Simon Preston, this short, vivid and clusterful work simply sizzles and makes a perfect match for this exuberant instrument. This sense of high-octane energy runs into Francis Pott’s substantial Introduction, Toccata and Fugue. Although his own distinctive harmonic vocabulary is infused here with subtle flavours derived from Duruflé and Alain, his fugal subject is woven organically to a masterly and searing climax. John Bertalot, the man who brought the Blackburn organ into being, is best known for his inspiring treatises on choir training. His Variations for Pedals on ‘Regent Square’ are thoroughly engaging and entertaining, a veritable tour de force with deliciously over-the-top high jinks at the end.

The bulk of the programme is taken with Whitlock’s glorious Sonata in C minor, that most romantic and symphonic example of the genre. This is one of the best and most accurate recordings to have emerged recently, sharing much of the élan of Graham Barber’s pioneering 1978 account from Coventry Cathedral (once available on a Vista LP, 3/79). Robinson favours a lithe and energetic approach to the first movement; it just lacks a little more tenderness here and there and a nobilmente broadening in the penultimate page. The second-movement Canzona flows along gracefully and the Scherzetto, too, is full of delicacy and bounce, save for one odd right-hand octave transposition on the last page but one. The metaphysical struggles of the lengthy finale are successfully steered around with a strong sense of propulsion, and Whitlock’s inner voicings and contrapuntal detail have never been captured so well.

A feast of an album, beautifully produced and with first-rate notes.