Pancrace Royer (1703 55) may be long recognised as one of the French Baroque’s most significant harpsichord composers but his orchestral music is arguably not much better known today than it was in 1992. That was when publication of The New Grove Dictionary of Opera sparked the first modern editions and performances of Zaïde, reine de Grenade (1739) and Le pouvoir de l’Amour (1743), the two opéra ballets in which most of his orchestral suites and overtures sit. And it’s hardly surprising, when those two sumptuous stage works remain the preserve of French 18th-century opera specialists. Still, it’s probably precisely from such a specialist that many would ideally wish to get their first hearing of this music. Also, ideally, someone with an intimate, player’s knowledge of Royer’s harpsichord works. In other words, someone exactly like Christophe Rousset, whose existing all-Royer recordings are his two harpsichord recitals (L’Oiseau-Lyre, 9/93; Naïve, A/08), between which came his and Les Talens Lyriques’ ‘Tragédiennes’ recital with Véronique Gens (Erato, 8/06), featuring selected Royer arias.

The disc in hand presents not only the substantial body of instrumental music from Zaïde and Le pouvoir de l’Amour but also pieces from Pyrrhus (first performed in 1730 to celebrate the birth of Philippe, duc d’Anjou) and the shorter 1748 work Almasis. Most of it has never been previously recorded. All of it sounds magical. Les Talens Lyriques really seal the deal, through their crisply luminous, lovingly shaped and expressed readings. Whether it’s an exuberant, brass-rich, bouncing gallop or softly cooing, slowly trilling, legato woodwind, the whole is dispatched with en pointe brilliance, shimmering with stage frisson. With such vibrantly visual-feeling and dramatically taut playing, there’s the constant feeling of being on the verge of a singer striking up an aria or a dancer leaping into view – which of course doesn’t happen. Still, this is at least a nice ‘issue’ to have to get your head around. Add the warm bloom of Paris’s Notre-Dame-du-Liban underpinning each chordal explosion with a satisfying degree of plumply reverberating thwump, and if you’re after a shot of musical caffeine, then here it is.