A COUPLE of weeks ago I received a new compact disc for review purposes. In several ways it was striking. It’s a compilation disc, which, in these days of completism and rigorous concentration on repertoire, is relatively unusual. But it was also a very personal venture by the artist, which raised some questions and issues. This sounds like it’s lining up to be a heavyweight consideration of something. It’s not really.

First, the cd itself. It features the young pianist Alessio Bax, who’s been making a bit of a name for himself. He has featured here before, principally in his role as duettist with his pianist partner and now wife, Lucille Chung. I recall reviewing a disc of theirs which included music by Stravinsky and Piazzola, as well as a captivating set of duet miniatures by Brahms, of whose existence some readers were unaware. They are one of Brahms’ magical creations, seldom heard in concert as they are devilishly-awkward to programme, being such tiny gems: where do you put them? And what do you put them with?

Anyway, Bax’s latest offering, on the Signum Classics label, is entitled Lullabies for Mila, and is basically a set of classical soothers, compiled as a “seamless stream” of gentle classical evergreens, suitable either for playing to a baby in its pram or cot, or indeed to frazzled parents, worn-out and shattered after a day at the coal-face of kiddie-dom. The inspiration behind the project was the birth, in 2014, of Bax and Chung’s own daughter Mila. Bax provides his own programme note, which is highly personal, as it would be. The repertoire is a very nice selection of mostly-gentle favourites. There is, of course. Brahms’ Lullaby – mandatory, I should think, for such a disc. There is lots of Bach, especially slow movements, with Sheep May Safely Graze and numerous movements from a Flute Sonata, Violin Sonatas and the Third Orchestral Suite, though I’m of a generation where that particular slow movement evokes exclusively Jacques Loussier’s inimitable pianism and a sweet swirl of cigar smoke. There is lovely, tuneful music by Grieg and Scriabin; and of course there is Rachmaninov, including a rather ambitious arrangement for the piano of the Vocalise. Arrangements are by Bax himself and others, including Leopold Godowski, whose luscious Bach arrangement just has to be heard. Bax’s own playing of the music, largely soft, sonorous and seeking the deepest resonances of the piano, is absolutely tailored to fit the concept behind the project. The one bit that really doesn’t fit is the last track, the Larghetto from Mozart’s final Piano Concerto, K595, played by the Southbank Sinfonia, where a genuine sonic dichotomy punctures the mood.

That apart, it’s a lovely collection. I can already hear the grumbles, gripes and snipes of the purists: “It’s not what music is FOR.” Then what is it for? Music is the supremely multi-functional art form. Absolutely nobody can control what you take from or get out of a piece of music. Not even Stalin managed that one, though he tried. And as for music as background, well, that’s the way a good deal of it came about, even though the great masters, especially Haydn, managed to make musical masterpieces out of writing stuff that was part of their daily duty as an employee. It was a long time down the road of historical development before the ultimate emergence of the creative artist as an indomitable individual who does his own thing, exclusively in his own way and on his own terms; and that man Beethoven figures somewhere on that historical path. Before him, composers would, to whatever degree, do the job they were instructed to do, and if what was required was music to dance to or even to eat to, then that’s what you would produce.

Indeed, table music (tafelmusik) was in enormous demand as an accompaniment to grub, and composers churned it out like sausages: Telemann wrote volumes of the stuff, and it’s only in relatively recent times that musicologists and performers have actually discovered that, beneath the surface of this functional music there lies some very good stuff; masterpieces even. And so these figures are gradually attaining the stature of the big names. And their music is feeding the insatiable appetite of the record industry.

But alongside classical masterpieces new and old, familiar and daunting, there will always be room for the Classic Fm type of compilation with great tunes such as that produced by Alessio Bax. There’s an appetite for it; it’s as simple as that. So good for you, Mr Bax. It’s all music.