The Divine Comedy – The Usher Hall: Neil Hannon Scales the Heights of a Lofty Career 

The Divine Comedy are one of those bands that I had long admired from a distance.

It’s a pity that the first time I saw them, the distance just happened to be from the very back row of the Usher Hall’s upper circle. An area that was only reachable by scaling stairs as steep as the Eiger.

Enough about my lack of concentration when it comes to ordering concert tickets. Although I’m sure if anyone could write a witty and introspective ode about my carelessness and soundtrack it with an orchestra, Neil Hannon could.

He’s good at that. Making social observations with a cheeky wink to those watching on while conducting a steady crew of musicians.

Just ask the loyal crowd that the group drew in Edinburgh. The mastermind behind a dazzling collection of material held the audience in the palm of one hand as he expertly caressed his glass of red wine in the other.

They were in town to promote their latest release, Rainy Sunday Afternoon, although ‘Dreech Friday Night’ would have been more appropriate. And while they were at it, they celebrated the thirtieth anniversary of their breakthrough album, Casanova.

It took the all-seated crowd a while to show their appreciation. You couldn’t help but wonder if their only Scottish date would have been more suited to a Glasgow venue. ‘Generation Sex’, in which Hannon sounded more like Jarvis Cocker than even the Pulp frontman himself, got a reaction. As did the calmer ‘A Lady of a Certain Age.’

Then it all clicked. Hannon introduced the group by pouring each of them a drink. ‘National Express’ got everyone up and earned a bum wiggle from the singer during that infamous line. Those on the ground floor deserted their seats to congregate at the front of the stage.

The set list was ripped up. The planned encore never happened. Instead, we got a selection of well-received fan favourites like ‘At the Indie Disco’ and well-known anthems like the Father Ted theme tune. We had a moment going on.

And we also got the chance to admire Hannon and his delivery of lyrics. That was as sharp as his suit. They were as reflective as his shades. And they went down as easily as his vino.

It was all worth it in the end. Even the vertigo.

Photo credit: Tracy Cameron