Hans Keller used to talk about ‘insiders’ of the string quartet: string-playing composers with an instinctive understanding of quartet textures. On that basis, it’s safe to say that Korngold – master orchestrator and supremely expressive pianist – was an ‘outsider’. With their crunchy, vertical spread chords and teasing written-out rubatos, his string quartets are audibly the work of a pianist: a far cry from the lush, effortlessly lyrical Korngold of the orchestra and opera house. Urgent, edgy and harmonically tangy, they’re EWK at his most expressionist, every bit the pupil of Zemlinsky.

That’s certainly the impression conveyed by this new cycle from the Tippett Quartet. The recording is up-close and direct; a real chamber acoustic without much scope for string tone to bloom. That suits the performances, which are restless, trenchant and also (or so it feels) very fast. Passages such as the trio section of No 2’s second movement and the busier stretches of No 1’s outer movements aren’t rushed, exactly, but the overall effect is sometimes congested. It all feels rather breathless.

That’s a valid approach, of course, and in fairness the Tippetts are adept at pacing the various passages (such as the opening movement of No 3) in which the initial energy ebbs to a troubled calm. The concentrated atmosphere of No 3’s film-derived slow movement is wonderfully noir-ish. But I’d have loved a little more playfulness to offset the unstoppable Schwung of No 2’s waltz-finale, and in the finale of No 1 found myself missing the way the music seemed to open out and bloom on the old Chilingirian Quartet recording (RCA, 10/77, 12/89). The Tippett’s Korngold is very much a composer in a hurry, and some will say that’s well overdue. They’ll find much to enjoy here.