Nielsen’s music for his own instrument is among his most exploratory – too much so for his contemporaries in the case of the Sonata No 1, which to most modern ears is surely the most approachable of the four works in question, thanks to its genial Brahmsian warmth. The Second Sonata is perhaps best appreciated as an outstanding representative of the era of late Reger and early Hindemith, rather than as an awkward predecessor of Bartók, Prokofiev and Shostakovich. Finally the two solo works of the 1920s are as knotty and waywardly improvisatory as anything Nielsen ever composed – essential to a rounded picture of his output, but not the first pieces you would recommend to a newcomer. Expect to get more out of all these pieces third or fourth time round.

All three artists on this fine new release play with a firm grasp of the idiom and a relish for the adventurous and wilful spirit that animates it. They also appreciate the direction of the ideas, even when Nielsen makes it hard to keep the thread. That isn’t to say that the historic Danacord accounts are superseded; after all Emil Telmányi was Nielsen’s son-in-law, and his now rather conventional-sounding romantic phrasing is surely close to what the composer would have heard in his lifetime, while Kai Laursen finds even more humour and fantasy in the solo works than his modern counterparts.

On BIS Georgios Demertzis is in places marginally more commanding, in others marginally less imaginative, than Jon Gjesme and Tue Lautrup. His pianist, as I noted in my review, is placed rather far forward, while on the new Dacapo disc Jens Elvekjaer’s instrument sounds a little lacking in presence. Both discs are well documented. Offered a straight choice, I would take the new one, though only just. I intend no disrespect to any of the players by suggesting that the time is ripe for a star violinist to take on this repertoire, as Vengerov and Znaider have done with Nielsen’s Concerto.