Except for the exquisite Sinfonia that opens No 156, none of these Epiphany cantatas is familiar fare. But with Bach cantatas, lesser-known rarely means inferior. No 72 opens with one of Bach’s infectiously joyous triple-time choruses, while No 81, in which Jesus calms the wind and the waves, is in effect an unstaged sacred opera, complete with a pair of graphic ‘storm’ arias. The highlight of the relatively brief No 155 is the imploring duet for alto and tenor accompanied by a virtuoso bassoon obbligato.

Five volumes into his projected complete cantata cycle, Eric Milnes gets animated, stylistically assured playing from his Montreal band, based on a maximum of 10 strings. I didn’t care for the little rhythmic hesitations that disrupt the flow of the soprano’s polonaise aria in No 72. But in the main Milnes has a sure feel for tempo and Bachian rhetoric. Like Kuijken in his selective series for Accent, he favours a one-to-a-part approach in the choruses and chorales. With the soloists well balanced and lively in their contrapuntal interplay, No 72’s opening chorus is one of the disc’s prime pleasures.

As so often on Bach cantata recordings, the individual solo contributions are more variable. I enjoyed Monika Mauch’s fresh, bell-like tones (delightful in her lilting aria in No 155) and Franziska Gottwald’s warm if slightly fluttery mezzo. Tenor Charles Daniels, always a fine Baroque stylist, performs wonders of agility in his furious aria in No 81, though his distinctive reedy timbre will not be to everyone’s taste. Harry van der Kamp, likewise a seasoned Baroque specialist, makes more of his words than his colleagues. But to my ears his tone now sounds disagreeably parched. I’m glad to have heard this disc. But in each cantata the performances directed by Suzuki (BIS, 1/98, 7/03, 7/09, 12/11) and Gardiner (DG, 9/00; SDG, 9/06), in their complete cycles, offer more consistent solo singing and a more urgent engagement with the text.