The competition is formidable – that’s why it was sensible to find room for Blumine. Whether you choose to experience Mahler’s discarded serenade as an encore or slot it back into place within the symphony’s earlier incarnation as a five-movement Symphonic Poem in Two Parts, this moonlit offcut makes intriguing listening. You won’t of course be getting the authentic 1893 Hamburg version of the whole offered by Jan Willem de Vriend (Challenge Classics, 6/10).

Instead Lintu presents a compellingly fresh and clear-eyed account of the definitive four-movement score. His Finnish team, routinely acclaimed for its clarity of articulation, delivers the goods here too without necessarily providing that sour edge to textual detail and larger-than-life sonority some still expect in Mahler. Turn to Leonard Bernstein and you’re in a bigger, more self-consciously interventionist world, a conspicuously Mitteleuropean and Jewish one at that, as the maestro himself would have insisted. It’s also a world that excludes Blumine.

Having embraced Mahler’s first-movement exposition repeat and given his pastoral particulars almost too much space, Lintu concludes with a notably eager dash to the finishing line. Not really earthy enough in the scherzo, he mercifully ignores the recent scholarly preference for massed double basses at the start of the third movement. Even in the finale he can seem overly reluctant to bend the music to a personal vision but his easy lightness is deceptive. Everything is so precisely calibrated that we imagine the music plays itself. Recommended, even if rivals pack a greater punch, because Ondine’s sound is state-of-the-art.