They are unfazed by the work’s sheer scale and its Schubertian avoidance of extremes of tempo. Alive to the detail too, be it the triplet quaver rest of the quartet’s opening theme, which gives the phrase its rhythmic profile, or the striking textures of the Poco adagio, piano set against muted strings, before the extraordinary interruption of una corda arpeggios on the keyboard that quite undermines the music’s contented demeanour. At least that’s the effect here; Hamelin and the Leopolds take this, like the Capuçon-Caussé-Angelich line-up, at a distinctly slower pace, suggesting not so much contentment as a sense of awe, the stillness more strikingly broken by those arpeggios (particularly velvety in Angelich’s hands).

The easy camaraderie of the slow-paced Scherzo is tellingly conveyed on this new CD, the players relishing the fire of its canonic trio. Yet the Hungarianisms of the finale are perhaps a touch pale compared to Hamelin and the Leopolds, who set a faster tempo and make more of the accentuation. However, Nebolsin et al are irreproachable in the work’s final moments, Brahms at his most merrily unclouded.

The Mahler Quartet movement, written when he was 16, sets off promisingly, establishing a dolorous mood with a three-note sighing figure. The problem is that the obsessive use of this and a secondary scalic theme (marked Entschlossen – resolutely) comes to sound rather hammy over its 11-minute span. The players give it their all, but even they can’t disguise its fundamental shortcomings.