Who
The Divine Comedy
Support
Barbara
Where
Birmingham Symphony Hall
When
22nd April 2022
Price
£32.50
Who with
No-one
Position
Seated, towards the back
Comments
Over 21 years after last seeing them in March 2001, The Divine Comedy must have set my personal record for longest time between live viewings of a band! And I only saw them the first time due to having been offered a free competition-winning ticket to attend. The £11 price (which I hadn't even needed to pay at the time) has since tripled with inflation, and The Divine Comedy have always held a fascination for me. Much of it I think was my affection for National Express coupled with frustration at their sheer self-indulgence and aversion to the hits last time I saw them. Just two years before that show they'd released a delightful greatest hits record and it was deeply unfortunate I only got to see them when they were reacting against this success. That was compounded by a crowd lapping up their b-sides set with insane enthusiasm and their not being arsed to come round the back and meet us fans afterwards, but certainly I was conscious that Neil Hannon could only do better next time. Watching a seemingly random performance of Something For The Weekend on the Graham Norton Show reignited my interest, and when I saw that they were playing Birmingham's beautiful Symphony Hall, I felt compelled to attend and quickly got a ticket. Also they were supporting a second greatest hits package so I could tell they'd be in hits mode, although it was a poor and unnecessary collection, omitting The Pop Singer's Fear Of The Pollen Count, The Frog Princess, Gin Soaked Boy and I've Been To A Marvellous Party from their original Hits collection! Don't get me wrong, I understand they'd since been releasing records I wasn't familiar with and needed to leave out some classics, but I struggle to accept any collection that leaves so many favourites from the mix! Still, at least it gave me clues for what wouldn't be delivered tonight.

I heard their "proper" Greatest Hits collection quite a bit, and even discovered their fairly random cover version of Radioactivity by Kraftwerk, catching the train after work to Brum. I'd ended up eating before going out to save cash, as this was the middle of three nights out in the second city. Sunday night had been a pandemic-delayed performance by Romesh Ranganathan at the Hippodrome, and Tuesday night featured an almost-cancelled work Thai meal out and ludicrous amounts of free cocktails for me. This Monday night was a bit of a strange one, but it ended up working well alongside my plans, even though as the show approached I felt quite burned out and not as keen to attend. Nevertheless, I attracted some Facebook interest with a smart status update quoting some lyrics, caught up on a little TV before heading out and heard the best songs of The Divine Comedy on the journey in. I nearly lost my headphones walking to the venue, perversely having them returned to me by the person who walked into my way and made me drop them unknowingly in the first place, being a little distracted with drafting review notes on my phone no doubt. And here I am just a week later, taking advantage of a bank holiday Monday to type them up! I arrived in good time, but the ticket just said 7.30pm and the only piece of information online to imply a later start time was that there was a support act. As is so often the situation, everyone else magically seemed to know that the show was starting later than this, and the venue was relatively quiet. I counted six tiers and I was on the top one, albeit at the front of the back, and not many had taken their seats before me.

This was my first visit inside the Symphony Hall since it had been refurbished, although as far as I can tell all the work had been done in the bar and surrounding areas. The main room itself was already an immaculate theatre, in fact rated as having the seventh best acoustics in the world, and the very best in the country. They'd tested and had confirmed that an actual pin being dropped from the stage could be heard from any seat in the venue! The hall was larger than it appeared and notably bigger than similar venues in Brum, no doubt due to how far the seats extend back on each of the tiers. I had a great and unobstructed view but it was very high up and distant. Still, for a theatre of this size, it maintained a certain feeling of intimacy. From the surrounding rooms I could see views of Centenary Square, and little did I realise that the famous golden statue was going to be returned to the square just a few days after this show! I actually took to the wrong seat due to them being ambiguously labelled, but as no one claimed the spaces next to me it gave me control over three seats, which was fantastic. The Coronavirus was still around but due to the government policy of simply ignoring it, masks and social distancing had long since ceased. Online had said that limited tickets were available, and there was a pretty good turnout, even though clearly quite a lot of seats were left vacant. Frankly for a 1990s band who hadn't really had any hits for 22 years, they were doing rather well for themselves! The stage was already set up for both acts, including two drum kits, and after a little while the support act Barbara took to the stage.

They were a five piece with a slight poppy Supernaturals and nerdy vibe, who were enthusiastic in their praise of The Divine Comedy. The brother of the singer was on keyboards and they plugged a date at the Hare And Hounds later that year too. It's mind blowing that an unknown act could be playing the same "small" venue as the legendary Boo Radleys had done, but perhaps a good sign that they were making a name for themselves. New music has become a bit of a rarity nowadays, with absolutely no new acts of real worth breaking into the charts. In fact the charts had slightly improved their overall quality besides dog shite like Adele and Ed Sheeran, but if there was a thriving underground new music scene, I just was no longer aware of it. But I'm also conscious that now I'm getting older I naturally am less aware of up and coming acts. But I still can't escape the feeling that there isn't much going on reaching a large audience? Barbara announced that their debut EP was on sale in the lobby and sounded pleasant enough, but support bands need to truly amaze now to earn any more recognition from me. Not bad at all, but I just didn't have the knowledge of them to foster any deeper connection. The Divine Comedy took to the stage a full 15 minutes before 9pm, as a lovely draped curtain was lit up and made visible behind them, which changed colour a few times in the show. They opened with unknown tunes Absent Friends and At The Indie Disco, although I could tell that they were pretty solid efforts. I don't want to be too harsh on their new material, as I was aware I'd not made the effort to get into it, and they made a pretty decent stab at it and these tunes sounded fun. Becoming More Like Alfie was the first familiar hit, which was followed with an announcement that they would be funky or suchlike, except on this next song.

That normally would denote a ballad and b-side, but to my delight it was the gorgeous Everybody Knows (Except You). I shot my first video, capturing pinky/purple lights and great chilled sound quality, although my picture jerked around a little as I zoomed, partly because I was trying to hold it steady and actually watch the show with my real life eyes. It was a gentle but lovely number, followed by Bad Ambassador. Last time this tune had been one of many unwelcome newbies, this time it shone much more brightly, even though I didn't know it beyond its status as representing a missed opportunity 21 years prior. Neil Hannon was a jovial and lovely host, declaring that Birmingham were the home of the greatest band ever in ELO, and recounting a story of how he'd cried when he met Jeff Lynne and hoped that the guy hadn't noticed. Neil also responded amusingly to some random heckles and displayed his famed charisma and wit we all had come to expect, and I was pleased but not surprised when he confirmed that tonight was all about the hits, and without the weird stuff. The Divine Comedy are largely a trading name for Neil and the other members are barely credited as being more than backing, but they did the job admirably in any case, with five guys quietly doing everything possible to make this an evening of appropriately decent music in these lovely surroundings. One member was sometimes on accordion rather than keyboards, and the zoom on my camera confirmed that The Divine Comedy was written on the drum kit also. Neil was dressed as smartly as one would expect in a full suit, with sunglasses occasionally removed to engage more personally with us all. The man was clearly happy to embrace being in a greatest hits mode, and provided us with the persona we all knew and wanted him to deliver. At one point Neil asked us if we'd prefer a song or an anecdote, and frankly we'd have been happy to enjoy either!

The Certainty Of Chance represented a half-known hit, but after a couple more tunes I didn't know, proceedings came to life with Generation Sex! This had been the one and only properly delivered hit last time, but it felt much more welcome as one of many tonight. It was preceded by different intro music to the record, and my video captured red and flashing lights and Neil in sunglasses prowling the stage. The vocal quality was coming across wonderfully and the venue certainly was living up to its reputation, although my camera was still zooming a little jerkily. This was followed surprisingly by Something For The Weekend, which was their first hit I'd ever heard, and shockingly was unveiled to the world just two weeks apart from the SFA classic of the same name. I shot another video and this got the crowd in the stalls on their feet for sure! There were blue lights and my blurry video eventually came into focus to better capture the fun, with Neil even sporting a guitar. It did seem a strange excess of energy for the middle of a concert, and so it made a lot of sense when the band said that it was now the interval, and that we could go and get drunk. Smart move, although I was being good and stuck to just the one pre-show beer, not even leaving my seat. The band returned to the stage with two songs I didn't know before the gorgeous Songs Of Love. Now my videos were behaving weirdly and seemed to be cutting out after 90 seconds or so, but that could just be a file restriction I'd not noted before. But as a result of this I made two videos here, with the first capturing one of the band on double bass and the return of pinky/purple lights, and an inevitable second video to capture the solo which I'd wanted to record for posterity. It was done via accordion rather than guitar sadly, but despite not hitting the expected spot, it was a very pretty song and Neil gave out a little whoop at the end too!

Your Daddy's Car retained its status from last time as a reasonable mid level hit, and I vaguely recall Norman And Norma as going down well also. In fact some of these later songs I didn't know came across brilliantly. Neil had a little table to his side for his water, and at one moment picked up some yellow flowers to accompany a tune. He demonstrated afterwards that the flowers also worked as a tambourine and that he perhaps should have included that fact in his performance. Also one number memorably included a line about being dead, whereupon he fell dramatically to the floor and played dead for a minute as the band performed around him uninterrupted. A bit silly, but very noteworthy! There also was a brief appearance of a smart man in a bowler hat dressed as a businessman for a reason I couldn't fathom, but I was nevertheless elated when the set returned to greatest hits territory for the inevitable highlight! And yes, what else could it be except National Express? The video I shot captured blue lights on the best verse, with Neil doing actions and gestures, including a delightful bend and grasp of his lower back for the arse line. It is unsurprising that I uploaded this to Facebook as I write this review! Although done with far more passion and less attitude than last time, Neil again ended the song abruptly, this time signified by the dropping of his tambourine and a sharp stop. A few of the crowd rushed out as the band left the stage, but it really wasn't that late and it seemed disrespectful to dash out without excellent reason. Also Neil had encouraged us to sing along, and we'd all enthusiastically done so.

The inevitable encore disappointed though, with Perfect Lovesong offering a throwback to their self-indulgent setlist of 2001. The Summerhouse appeared to be a fan request, albeit one performed so proficiently it's hard to imagine it wasn't well rehearsed? But given all the bigger and bolder hits they could have gone with, this was not the best choice at all! The set ended perhaps as it should have done with an energetic Tonight We Fly, before we all made our way downstairs and dashed for the exit. Although the trams were out of service, a new shorter path back to New Street station was now open, and I was in good time for my penultimate train home. I spent that time drafting more notes on my phone for this review and also hearing some of the hits. The train was slightly late but at least I got home without too much drama. The Divine Comedy had done so, so much better than last time, and the omissions were in line with what I'd expected based on what had been left off their new greatest hits collection. As far as I can gather, the stupendous I've Been To A Marvellous Party has never formed part of their live set, which is devastating as it would be a glorious finale and is totally unlike anything else the band offered. Frog Princess is perhaps the most baffling exclusion from their new collection, and I'm annoyed to note it has made some of their setlists on this tour. I feel they'd played it in 2001, but my printed setlist didn't include it, so I suspect it was only delivered as an impromptu moment? The Pop Singer's Fear Of The Pollen Count and Gin Soaked Boy are a little cheesy, so would have been very welcome but I guess I can understand their absence. But there were a few heckles for Gin Soaked Boy and Neil said something about not knowing all the words. It makes me feel that they genuinely were trying to deliver the set the fans most wanted, and that deserves some credit. I can't imagine I will watch them again, but it felt good to right a few wrongs after 21 years, and to complete the circle in giving The Divine Comedy a second opportunity to shine.
Setlist
Absent Friends
At The Indie Disco
Becoming More Like Alfie
Everybody Knows (Except You)
Bad Ambassador
The Certainty Of Chance
The Best Mistakes
To The Rescue
Generation Sex
Something For The Weekend
Assume The Perpendicular
A Lady Of A Certain Age
Songs Of Love
Your Daddy's Car
Norman And Norma
Love What You Do
Our Mutual Friend
How Can You Leave Me On My Own
I Like
National Express
Perfect Lovesong
The Summerhouse
Tonight We Fly

Mark: 7.5/10