Published on Sep 18, 2003
While I was browsing in a used CD shop, the Divine Comedy
appeared, bursting from nowhere in an almost holographic fashion.
Scanning the package details, I saw songs like “Too Young to Die”
and “Generation Sex.” The cover featured a gangly nerd (Neil
Hannon) cast in nature and wearing sunglasses. Enlightened by what
I scoped, I placed $5.99 on the counter and purchased
A Secret History: Best of the Divine Comedy. I had
absolutely no knowledge of this band’s sound or history when I
bought the recording.
The Divine Comedy equals Neil Hannon plus interchangeable parts.
Formed in 1989, The Divine Comedy was chosen at random as the
moniker of this ‘band’ created in Northern Ireland. Musically, The
Divine Comedy could be classified as cocktail/baroque-styled pop,
but I would prefer to refer to it as updated, theatrical, jaded and
exceptionally dynamic parlor music. Although somewhat inconsistent,
Hannon’s lyrics are similar to and on par with Morrissey’s. Hannon
is a superb vocalist; he sings flawlessly in rich baritone and
silky tenor. Combining pomp, affection, glibness and self-parody,
his delivery often mutates within a song.
The Divine Comedy is all about irony. When this CD was played,
my immediate reaction was laughter. I could not get over the
derivative, orchestrated and seemingly kitschy sounds of a century
past. Neil’s croon is inescapable and parasitic because it’s
hopelessly catchy and melodic; much like my singing freestyle
ballads in the shower. Listening closer, I noticed that his
approach is witty dark comedy, cleverly combined with dissimilar
and complicated song structures and arrangements. Each track in
this collection features distinctive variations of this
formula.
After repeated spins,
Secret History… inevitably attaches. A sample of Neil’s
poetry can vary from the twisted humor of macabre (“Your Daddy’s
Car”), brilliantly worded and offbeat subject matter (“Gin-Soaked
Boy” and “Frog Princess”), pure comedy (“Pop Singer’s Fear of the
Pollen Count”) and childhood romance (“The Summerhouse”). An
obvious perfectionist, he understands that he could also add a
facelift to the antique musical form with various instruments and
production props. Bold orchestration (“National Express”), quirky
intros (“Something for the Weekend,” “Generation Sex”), progression
(again “Gin-Soaked Boy”) and even one shocking techno number (“I’ve
Been to a Marvelous Party”).
Neil Hannon is a genius. Unfortunately, his vision will likely
never prop him on a pop pedestal, but it’s nevertheless quite
remarkable.
Secret History: Best of the Divine Comedy is a masterpiece
and is the best Irish export outside of Guinness. You’ll likely
never find such applied experimentation that caresses your eardrums
and forces a contagious, advantageous mood alteration.