What healthy shape the Hallé are in these days. As dawn breaks over the capital, one could hardly fail to be impressed by the stunning refinement and immaculate blend of the orchestral playing. As both tempo and dynamics increase, though, where’s the surge of adrenalin and tremendous sense of pent-up energy that propels the rest of the symphony on its irresistible course? Maybe it’s the slightly cushioned Bridgewater Hall acoustic, I don’t know, but Elder sets the emotional thermostat at slightly too low a temperature throughout; the anguished cry that opens the finale goes for little and the ensuing processional’s full tragic force is only intermittently conveyed.

By way of comparison, I dug out Barbirolli’s classic 1957 recording (also with the Hallé): here you’ll encounter music-making of such infectious spontaneity, temperament, compassion and inimitably ruddy complexion that a life-enhancing experience is guaranteed. As for this latest contender, there’s heaps to admire in terms of polish, coordination and meticulous observation but rather less that truly warms the cockles. Overall, Elder’s is not a London Symphony to join my own shortlist of Barbirolli’s Pye/Nixa recording mentioned above (Dutton), Boult’s blisteringly cogent 1952 LPO account for Decca, the big-hearted 1972 LSO/Previn and Handley’s cherishably idiomatic 1992 remake with the RLPO.

The Oboe Concerto (which brings a beneficial switch of venue to BBC Manchester’s Studio 7) is more to my liking. Hallé principal Stéphane Rancourt makes an exquisitely poised and affectionate soloist, while Elder and his responsive Hallé strings play their full part in a lovely performance of unstinting poetry and illumination that does justice to this still underrated piece.