Words With The Divine Comedy

For a band who’ve always teetered on the edge of the mainstream, Neil Hannon and his various incarnations of the Divine Comedy haven't half done well to be still about 17 years after their conception.  While gems such as 'Everybody Knows' and 'Something For The Weekend' gained them a solid fanbase in the mid-nineties, it was 1999's jovial transport based ditty 'National Express' that thrust them headlong into the top ten and got Parlophone thinking they better sign this dapper looking chap smartish.

The day before we spoke to him, Neil had just performed new material from ninth album 'Victory For The Comic Muse' to an assembled group of press and media types in London's swanky Too 2 Much club – the home of Elton's stag do, no less!  As London folk, never mind media folk, are prone to do at gigs, there was polite clapping and Neil found it hard to engage with the audience.  Despite his misgivings though, the show was successful with various pundits ringing his manager to declare it 'the best showcase they'd even been to.' 

While being a debut for the media, Neil was warmed up by a gentler audience – his fans – after completing a small tour of the UK earlier in the month.  The coolest venue on the tour surely had to be a small church in London, where despite the sound being 'a little dodgy', the band pulled off a spectacular appearance lauded by many critics. But what was it like for the son of a former major Irish Bishop to sing about love and sex in a holy place?  'Hmmm, I certainly swore less than normal,' he giggled, 'but we still stuck to our values, and even played The Eye of the Needle which is very irreligious.'

So what of this new album then that everyone's raving about? For starters, take a look at the name.  The Divine Comedy's debut was called 'Fanfare For The Comic Muse' so could 'Victory' signal the end? "Oh yeah I'm going to top me-self! What's the point? I may have misjudged this one as everyone suddenly thinks it's the end. I'm always getting this feeling that people are trying to get rid of me, but no it's not the end, it's just the beginning!'  Taken from one of Hannon's favourite films, A Room With A View, he suggests that the title 'just looked right, because it had that air of grandiose I enjoy. Calling an album 'Whatever' or 'If' is just so dull!' 

Recorded in London's Rack studios, most of Neil's time was spent behind the desk, trying to play as little as possible. Reckoning his instrumental techniques are 'unusual' and somewhat 'lack timing', he rather preferred to leave the good musicians to their jobs. Victory continues the theme of very character based songs, but Neil says the characters aren't real but instead are a 'subconscious amalgamation of various books and films as well as people I've met over the years all rolled into one.' Various French ex-girlfriends have in the past hoped they were 'The Frog Princess' but alas not!

Never one to court the press, lead single 'Diva Lady' comments on the current state of celebrity obsessed culture. A girl with 'no real home' and '30 people in her entourage to give her ego a quick massage' could be said of many female celebrities out there, but it's those who put up with and lead on worthless celebs (Chantelle anyone?) who really rankle Hannon. Never mind those who sell photos of their babies to the papers - 'Is nothing sacred?' he asks. While claiming he'd be quite happy to be a celeb if anyone thought he was one, Neil contently admits that he's never really done anything that would get the papers interested. Before the marriage to his wife, Orla, his then press officer rang up Hello! to see if they would be interested in access to the wedding ('without my permission' he hastens to add). The offer that came back was a measly ten grand, 'I'd have done it if maybe it was a hundred grand, but ten!?'