The
Divine Comedy @
UCL Bloomsbury Theatre, London,
15 June 2004
Published:
musicOMH,
(originally written for Logo Magazine website)
Original
article:
http://www.musicomh.com/music/gigs/divine-comedy-8_0604.htm
Gone
are the hundred-piece orchestras, gone are the fellow bandmates
and gone too some of the grandiose, overblown edge often
associated with The Divine Comedy. But this is no bad thing
as Neil Hannon treats the audience to new material, old
favourites and various, carefully selected covers with an
intimately personal touch probably not possible from the
overcrowded live set-up of the past.
The
loss of the rest of the band since 2001's Regeneration (itself
a reference to a more pared-down approach) is directly alluded
to by the name of latest album Absent Friends, and it is
the title track that opens tonight's performance. Backed
only by piano and cello, Hannon creates an intimacy between
himself and the audience as he strums through old and new
material, all imbued with the trademark melancholy, observational
humour and dry wit that have come to characterise his work
over the years.
Old
favourites such as Becoming More Like Alfie and biggest
hit to date Everybody Knows (Except You) are whisked through
by Hannon with his rich, deep croon, with brief pauses for
banter with the audience - "Why couldn't he just tell
her? Asshole!" he jokes after Everybody Knows. Indeed,
humour forms a large part of Hannon's charm as shown by
his cover of Tom Lehrer's murderously macabre
severed limb love song, I Hold Your Hand In Mine Dear and,
following a pro-European political sketch, through his dedication
of Generation Sex to the UK Independence Party, which he
threatens to play extra slow, "just to piss them off."
At one
point the choice of the next song is placed in the hands
of the audience, the lights go up as the hand-count for
Moon River or National Express is made. However, the voting
process goes as smoothly as a Zimbabwean election and the
undecided hung parliament means he sings both cover and
old favourite, along with a Hannon provoked sing-along chorus.
The
wistful nostalgia of new track Leaving Today gently builds
with the introduction of cello and brief interjections of
piano combining to create a sorrowful, and to be honest,
quite miserable tone which is thankfully broken by the humourous
tale of disaffected youth that is The Happy Goth.
This
is followed by the twee tale of lunches on the lawn that
is The Summerhouse. At this point though the heartstrings
start to feel a bit tired of being tugged by the constant
stream of romantically sentimental, sad stories of unrequited
love (Our Mutual Friend), the pitfalls of fame (Randy
Newman's Lonely at the Top) and indulgent, if beautiful,
introspection (Lucy). The clouds of self-conscious reflection
and everyday longing that permeate the set at times, in
spite of touches of eccentric Oscar Wilde
style humour, make you feel like shouting at the stage to
get Hannon to lighten up a bit.
The
cloud lifts, however, as Hannon launches into the final
leg of tonight's performance with a cover of the Flaming
Lips' Do You Realise?. His rousing, emotional rendition
may lack the ecstatic euphoria of the original but this
is replaced by a sweetly struck appeal to the hearts and
minds of the audience. He follows this with Father Ted theme
tune track, Songs of Love, bizarrely comical nursery rhyme,
My Lovely Horse and new song Charmed Life, before ending
the set with Tonight We Fly. The final words of which, 'this
life is the best we've ever had', are some of the most upliftingly
optimistic of the night and go towards earning Hannon a
standing ovation.
The
Divine Comedy indulge in a type of observational kitchensink
melancholy that's more triumphant than the Pet Shop
Boys and more theatrical than Pulp.
Whilst listening to Hannon's bittersweet brand of fop pop
forms an enjoyable ride through the full range of human
emotions it has to be said that this extended set of over
twenty songs sagged slightly in the middle, becoming emotionally
tiring, but full credit to the Londonderry man for pulling
it together at the end and giving the performance a much
needed pick-me-up.
Let's
just hope Neil Hannon is still in touch with his 'absent
friends' if he ever feels in need of a lift himself.
- Ian Roullier, 06/2004 |