In an interesting booklet note for this formidably competitive release, Richard Wigmore remarks, concerning the epic Quartet No 15 in G, D887 (50'24" in this instance), that ‘the thrill of a good performance is the sense of four players striving against near-impossible odds, in music that often seems conceived in terms of an orchestra’. RW draws parallels with Bruckner, which seem to me entirely justified, claiming that at around the work’s beginning ‘the Brucknerian tremolos initially distil an eerie calm’. Add the presence of one of the longest exposition repeats in existence – six minutes to be more or less exact – which the Takács Quartet observe, and you also have a Brucknerian sense of scale.

But do the Takács seem to be striving against near-impossible odds? Compare the pre-war Busch Quartet (Warner Classics) who, although they leave out the repeat and don’t command quite the Takács Quartet’s amazing range of dynamics, drive further towards the desolate world of the Winterreise song-cycle, and it’s a fearless journey. Turn then to the Juilliard Quartet (their Epic recording on Sony Classical) and the music turns deathly pale while expressing an exquisite brand of sweetness. These and other recordings (including the Guarneri and Diogenes Quartets and Gidon Kremer and friends) touch the searing edge of this wonderful score and need to be quoted in order to place this new Takács version in a realistic critical context.

Returning to the Takács for the Andante poco moto second movement, with its violent interceptions and wildly scrubbing tremolos, their pooled musical judgement seems unimpeachable: whatever the virtues of other versions quoted, this is exceptional musicianship by any standards. The nervy Scherzo and the dashing finale (which recalls the world of Death and the Maiden) are also brilliantly played, as is the equally intimate if rather more affable Quartet No 8 in B flat, D112, another work favoured on record by the Busch, with its elegant Menuetto and ingenious finale where pacy, sparkling arabesques sound above a slowly moving accompaniment.

One aspect of this recording that brooks no rivalry is the sound: producer Andrew Keener and recording engineers David Hinitt and James Waterhouse have done an admirable job. Schubert’s G major is a mammoth work that simply has to be heard. If you don’t know it and fancy a new recording of the work, then the Takács as recorded last year rival the best. Thoroughly recommended.