Divine Comedy - Absent Friends (CD 2004)

With the 2004 release of Absent Friends, the Divine Comedy returned to its roots. Neil Hannon moves away from the indie rock vibe of Regeneration and back again are the ballads from imagined characters and a more playful lyrical mood is apparent.

But with Absent Friends an obvious maturity, or perhaps melancholy, is more in evidence. And it is this more languorous tone that marks Absent Friends apart from the Divine Comedy’s earlier work. The title is perhaps the clue.

From what I understand, the album title and opening eponymous number are a reference to what has always been referred to unhappily by Neil Hannon as one of the more unpleasant experiences of his life. Regeneration was not the commercial success that the record company had hoped for and Hannon was forced to disband the group he had formed. I get the feeling that the album’s opening line, where Hannon raises a glass to absent friends and the ‘happy days we thought… would never end’ is his nod of apology to them.

Despite the underlying sadness, the title track is emblematic of other songs on the album that seem altogether more mature and confident.

The ‘big country’ strings, Western feel and galloping percussion make this a compelling opener to a long awaited album (it was a long three years between Absent Friends and Regeneration) and the roll-call of long-gone heroes (Woodbine Willy, Jean Seborg, Steve McQueen, Laika (the space dog!) and Oscar Wilde) remind us that the Divine Comedy isn’t just your average band with normal references: each absent friend is remembered for their own unique contribution.

The second track, Sticks and Stones is a superb theatrical, fin de millennium style ballad with a strong orchestral backing. With the acerbic opening line setting the tone beyond doubt: “You and I go together, like the molar and the drill/Flesh is weak, but darling we know, the ego’s weaker still.”

Of other tracks Come Home Billy Bird made an excellent first single and Our Mutual Friend is a pressing, compelling tale of romantic failure. The Happy Goth is an empathetic conversation with a seemingly troubled teenager set to a bossa nova.

If Absent Friends begins with sadness it ends with a joyous ditty for Hannon’s new daughter. Charmed Life starts as a touching lullaby but soon moves from gentle piano and guitar to full orchestral bravado with clashing cymbals punctuating the philosophy and confessions of a proud and satisfied father. This is uncharted water for the Divine Comedy taking us across the sea of personal satisfaction and deeply held pleasure of having a child to dote on.

Never before has a Divine Comedy album been so glorious in scope and lavish in scale. Neil Hannon’s voice in particular has achieved a depth and polish that marks it apart from some earlier work. The transformation from teenage music geek and dilettante via indie rock star into lounge lizard supreme is complete. We can only hope that the next album is as impressive and magnificent.