THE sprawling Band of Burns collective have a strong affinity with this spectacular venue, having played their first gig here four years ago and recorded their debut album Live at the Union Chapel under its high Victorian Gothic roof.

The chemistry was at play again on this night, as the dozen members ran through a rousing and varied selection of Rabbie Burns-related songs, some written by the great bard himself, others simply inspired by him.

Starting with material from their first studio album The Thread, we were pretty soon into an evening of eclectic fun, interspersed with quieter moments on renditions of Ca’ the Yowes and Ay Waukin O.

Part of the band’s attraction is the exciting cacophony of noise they generate, with three fiddles on the go, two guitars, a double bass and cello, flute, bodhran, keyboards and, every so often, Dave Tunstall stepping out of the shadows to deliver a volley on the Border pipes.

The vocal resources are deep, too, as the sweet Dartmoor tones of Dominie Hooper blend with the Turkish inflections of Dila Vardar and the soulful stirrings of County Armagh’s Rioghnach Connolly, notably on Burns’s celebration of female defiance To Daunton Me.

Most striking, though, is the captivating and highly distinctive voice of Liverpool’s Mikey Kenney, demonstrated to the full on his unusual solo The Slave’s Lament.

Keeping control of this unruly travelling fair of striking characters is not an easy job. But musical director Alastair Caplin, on fiddle and keyboards, keeps everyone in check with only a light hand on the tiller before setting them periodically free on an exuberant tune-set.

Caplin is aided in his task by a visibly joyful commitment to the cause that buries any egos. It’s that communal path, as much as anything, which makes this ad hoc supergroup such a pleasure to watch.