Gianandrea Noseda’s performance of the First Symphony projects an unstuffy demeanour and trim athleticism to remind the listener that Rachmaninov was still a young man of 21 when he embarked upon it. Unlike some of his bigger-name colleagues, Noseda eschews sensation for its own sake and gratuitous point-making (there are no glaring textual trangressions to speak of). Emotions are always under control (the slow movement’s hesitant love-song radiates a sweet innocence), and he secures a conspicuously well coordinated response from his Manchester band (though its strings are lacking something in sheer weight of tone). Needless to report, Stephen Rinker’s vivid and wide-ranging sound is a boon. It’s all supremely tasteful, the work’s tragic undertow counterbalanced (some would say diluted) by an element of restraint not dissimilar to that espoused by Pletnev (DG, 10/00) or de Waart (Philips, 12/79R – nla), but, unlike those top-ranking versions, the music-making somehow never quite ignites, and I do hanker after the authentic Slavic tang and giddy passion of Svetlanov’s supercharged 1966 USSR SO recording (Regis).

Granted, Noseda’s Isle of the Dead delivers rather more in the way of yearning ardour and expressive heft, but, impressively shaped and thoughtfully prepared though his lucid conception is, I’d hesitate to rank it alongside such thoroughbred interpretations as those from Svetlanov, Previn, Ashkenazy and Gielen; nor does it readily kindle the burning conviction and do-or-die intensity of stellar “golden oldies” from the composer himself, Koussevitzky and Reiner. Noseda also lends spruce and exuberant advocacy to the teenage Rachmaninov’s compact Youth Symphony of 1891 (which unapologetically apes the first movement of Tchaikovsky’s Fourth Symphony). I have a soft spot for this engagingly fresh-faced essay, and its inclusion may prove an incentive for some.

Final verdict? Accomplished and easy to enjoy; but, in a crowded marketplace, not really a front-runner.