I find myself almost awash at the moment with new and recent CDs that, to some extent and one way or another, feature arrangements or transcriptions of a variety of pieces of music.

A few examples to start with: a new disc from the brass section of the Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra, entitled Brass Too, provides a showcase for the group in an arrangement of a Suite from Shostakovich's Gadfly, along with another from Astor Piazzolla's Maria de Buenos Aires.

The new-ish Petrof Piano Trio manage to infiltrate, into their recording of Piano Trios by Beethoven and Tchaikovsky, a little trio of Mendelssohn's Songs Without Words, originally piano pieces, arranged for piano trio by another composer. And into her own new recording of otherwise exclusively dedicated original works for viola, the great violist Tabea Zimmermann lets a couple of Fritz Kreisler's violinistic gems sneak through the "violas only" perimeter fence. Some extremists are terribly purist about such arrangements: "Originals only please; no watering down."

But what really irritates these folk is when we raise the subject of piano transcriptions, of which there are a few in this bunch of recordings. For the life of me I do not know why some people can't handle the notion of a transcription of a work from one instrumental medium into another. It's the same work; it's the same music; it's simply offering a different instrumental perspective and, to my mind, often a critical perspective, revealing fresh views, whether of textures, colours, balance, structures or even the inner workings of the music.

It doesn't attempt to displace or replace the original; it complements it. But I do know that some people have still somehow felt cheated, that what they're getting is second hand and second best; and I have known one festival director in the past who wouldn't have let a transcription within spitting distance of his programmes.

I've long since given up active missionary work on trying to persuade people to open their ears and give it a go; but I would certainly point to one new album being released on Monday, and which will be reviewed tomorrow in the Sunday Herald music section. It's on the German Audite label, features the Berlin-based Takahashi/Lehmann Piano Duo, and is a firecracker of a selection, by and large astoundingly played, with two real warhorse transcriptions in Schoenberg's Chamber Symphony and Beethoven's Great Fugue, and a magical duo performance of a piano duet transcription of Schumann's Second Symphony which I didn't know existed. It's a stunner. All three transcriptions were made by the composers themselves; and that's as authentic as it gets.

It's a grand and honourable tradition, the art and craft of transcription. They all did it. Bach did it, and probably others before him too. Brahms was a demon transcriber: he transcribed everything in sight and was a genius at it. Liszt was incredible: his transcriptions for piano included all nine of Beethoven's symphonies as well as Berlioz's Symphonie Fantastique. The selling of transcriptions became big time and a business empire through the 19th century.

Today we have music on tap, anywhere, any time you want it. You can have it delivered to you by myriad means and by any number of providers. You need never leave your living room, if you so desire, while accessing all the music you will ever want. You can even have a virtual concert hall in your home if you wish.

Two hundred years ago, none of this was even thinkable. Transcriptions had two functions, primarily. If you were a composer, with a job in a church or a court, where you might have instrumental or vocal forces available to let you meet the the daily requirements of your employer (Bach had to churn out the stuff) then you were lucky. Otherwise you could have a tough time trying to get your music played. Transcriptions were vital: they allowed the music to get out there and be heard.

Additionally, there was a huge growth in domestic music-making in society, with a concomitant demand for music to play at home, and music publishers needed composers to feed them material that could be sold to this new public. En passant, I've always wondered who on earth, domestically, at that time, would have been capable of getting their heads, never mind their fingers, around Beethoven's Great Fugue? None the less, that transcription was a commission from Beethoven's publisher (among others) and was intended for sale. The full story behind that particular piece, its origins, its development and its subsequent history, is one of the most extraordinary, elevating tales in the history of music. I'll save it for another day.

All albums mentioned above will be reviewed in due course.