When I mentioned to colleagues that I was off to see the Divine Comedy, they replied “Oh, that’s perfect for a Sunday afternoon.”
It turned out to be a very perceptive observation, as the Divine Comedy’s flavor of uneasy listening went down like camomile tea with a pleasantly relaxed Other Stage crowd.
It never gets easier seeing the Divine Comedy: it requires a certain suspension of disbelief. How does such a rich voice emerge from an emaciated frame with an oversized balloon head balanced on top, cigarette hanging out? Such wonders add to the effete fun.
It was a very lively and jocular set, packed with hits. More than once I noticed a particular fan to my left or right jumping up at the start of a song, bellowing to a loved one, “my favourite!” to such happy-go-lucky numbers as the excellent “The Happy Goth” or “Generation Sex”. With typical flare, in his between-tune banter, Neil dedicated the latter to UKIP - bless their silly souls. Yet such is the impressive back catalogue of Divine Comedy material that they barely scratched the surface and left some fans scratching their eyes and ears out for more. Forty minutes just wasn’t enough.
However, it’s the one cover version which merits special mention. Assemble a piano, double bass, accordion, banjo and drums. Not an ensemble ideally suited to render Queens of the Stone Age’s bitchin’ prog rock extravaganza “No-one knows”, you’d think, but only the Divine Comedy could carry it off with such off-hand majesty.
Neil couldn’t resist a little humour at those of us who’d spent over £100 to live in mud for three days, but it was affectionately intended. Where better to see this unique act than in a muddy field in Somerset?