The Ian McMillan Orchestra - Homing In

by John Medd
(York,UK)

Ian McMillan tells a lovely story about going into a school to perform some of his poetry.

After the reading the headmaster addressed the pupils and said, 'Please thank Mr. McMillan, children. And now we'll read some proper poetry.'

While it may not always follow traditional rhyming patterns McMillan's verse, though often silly is never bland, always incisive and very poignant.

And so, for this second outing with his band of merry minstrels (lead by roots musician and arranger Luke Carver Goss) McMillan combines his South Yorkshire vowels with some quality folk and world music wizardry.

Ten Forgotten Moments From History is built on the premise that for every huge moment of history a surreal parallel moment precedes it:

'Moment Seven – the moment just before Neil Armstrong stepped onto the moon. And the Welsh, who'd been there for years, scurried back to there underground palaces.

There they go!' The curse of sound leakage from mp3 players is a particular McMillan's bête noire (he doesn't drive and travels everywhere by train) and is dramatized expertly on iPod: 'It's worse than a tap dripping all night, worse than a digger on a building site...'

Recollections of his First Gig and Worst Gig are remembered uncomfortably.

This passage in particular must have been painful to write: 'We stopped and the booing reached a deep bass peak. We left the stage.

The landlord sneaked us out through a side room. I was almost crying. My legs felt weak and I was sweating like a sprinter and gasping like a trout.'

McMillan could never be accused of being a social commentator but in Curtain Down he stands up for declining and decaying communities: 'And when there's nowhere for the hope to go, you can soon forget there was hope there at all...'

Are you listening Mr. Cameron? Time for something more jaunty: And The Word Was Music is a riotous celebration of everything from Volcanos to hurdy-gurdies; it also contains the line: 'In the heat of creation, the train's at the station, the station's called rhythm, calling at Lytham... St. Anne's.'

I love it. An early contender for album of the year.

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