Anthony Pini was principal cello of Beecham’s London Philharmonic before the war, and I thoroughly enjoyed reacquainting myself with his performance of the Elgar Concerto with his former colleagues. It’s a selfless, intensely musical reading, notable for the soloist’s hard-working dedication and Eduard van Beinum’s delectably observant support. For once the great slow movement is not pulled around – and how instinctively these artists tap the vein of aching sorrow under those darkening skies. Notice, too, how the sound suddenly ‘fills out’ from 4’44” in the finale: some 10 months separate the two sessions and in the meantime Decca had begun to record on tape.

Elgarians will need no reminding of the handsome virtues of the remainder of the programme. Cockaigne fairly swaggers with exuberance, the LPO responding with tremendous zest and fresh-faced application for its then chief, yet there’s tenderness, poetry and humour aplenty when required. Even finer are the Wand of Youth suites. Van Beinum extracts heaps of vigour, innocence, nostalgia and wit from these captivating miniatures, and I’d place his poetic and strongly characterised accounts at the top of the pile alongside those of Handley (CfP) and Elgar (in EMI’s British Composers series). In the Second Suite especially (taken from a tape source) the Decca sound already has the often startling presence which was to become the hallmark of sound engineer Kenneth Wilkinson working inside his beloved Kingsway Hall.

Beulah’s new transfers are, on the whole, a fraction fuller and smoother than on a previous incarnation; both Wand of Youth suites are now properly indexed. So if you failed to snap up this valuable compilation first time round, you’ve no excuse now.