Recordings of Gerald Finzi’s imposing Cello Concerto (premiered at the Cheltenham Festival under John Barbirolli in 1955, the last full year of the composer’s life) have never been thick on the ground; if memory serves, this is only the fourth to have come my way. Very impressive it is, too: not only does Paul Watkins evince his customary purity of intonation, unruffled technical address and selfless dedication, he forges a healthy, infectiously tangible rapport with Andrew Davis, who obtains playing of commendable discipline and eager application from the BBC SO. The opening movement unfolds with a defiant sweep and enviable sureness of purpose (Davis takes the impassioned orchestral exposition at quite a clip). At the same time, these artists are fully alive to this music’s nervy, at times angry undertow. The slow movement emerges with an easy flow and unaffected simplicity that contrast strikingly with the more heart-on-sleeve approach taken by Yo-Yo Ma on his pioneering version with Vernon Handley and the RPO (Lyrita, 3/79, 8/07), while the Allegro giocoso rondo finale bounds along with delectable swagger and rhythmic snap.

In terms of keen temperament and interpretative spark, the performance put me in mind of Tim Hugh’s conspicuously taut account with Howard Griffiths conducting the Royal Northern Sinfonia (Naxos, A/01). Nor do I forget the lasting virtues of Chandos’s own rival offering featuring Raphael Wallfisch (10/86), again with Handley, at the helm of the RLPO (which, I see, has been repackaged for a third time coupled with concertos by Bax, Bliss and Moeran).

This newcomer, like the Naxos issue, brings more Finzi: the deeply touching Nocturne (New Year Music) – most eloquently done – and his two piano concertante works, the beguilingly serene Eclogue and by turns ruminative and scintillating Grand Fantasia and Toccata. The French-Canadian virtuoso Louis Lortie seems wholly attuned to the idiom, his playing full of grace and fire, and in the former’s closing pages he taps into a vein of deep-rooted mystery as old as time itself; Davis’s accompaniments, too, are past praise in their scrupulous attentiveness.

The beautifully balanced sound has the satisfying richness and glow we have come to expect from Chandos. As should be abundantly clear by now, this is something of a treat.