The Divine Comedy is Neil Hannon, that's all.

I was born in Londonderry, Northern Ireland, on November 7, 1970. My first recognisable word was "help" - you can read into that whatever you like. My home was Christchurch Rectory, 80 Northland Road; an island of peace, harmony, and apparent normality in an ocean of hatred, bigotry, and violence. The helicopters, Saracens, and soldiers didn't alarm me as much as they should have done, for I was unaware of a time when bits of people were being scraped off the streets on Scene Around Six, our local television news program. When asked in the school playground if I was Protestant or Catholic, I instinctively said "Protestant"; it was a lucky guess given the political complexion of my school. It later became clear that my family's religious persuasion was all that I had in common with the drum beating, sash wearing, 12th of July regulars I was lumped in with. I was convinced that the troubles would miraculously cease when '79 became '80. When they didn't I gave up on them, and the subject rarely entered my head again.

I had one primary school friend. His name was Garvin Campbell. He liked dinosaurs, I liked drawing, so we drew dinosaurs. Much to everyone's astonishment I actually passed my Eleven-Plus exam, and Garvin failed his. I was to go to Foyle College, he to Templemore. At the last minute his father decided to pay him into Foyle where all of his friends were going. Garvin told me his triumphant news only to hear that I was now moving altogether, to a different town. We promised to keep in touch and, of course, never saw each other again.

Enniskillen was eminently preferable to Derry, and although being quite shy, I found myself able to fit in reasonably well in the more relaxed, and liberal atmosphere of Fermanagh. My annoyance with my rootless, traditionless family, and the "posh" accent they had imposed upon me, gave way to a more positive appraisal of my maverick status. I preached socialism with the express intent of annoying Portora Royal Schools' conservative Unionist conspiracy. I even dared to suggest that a United Ireland mightn't necessarily be a bad thing. In retrospect, I'm not at all sure how I survived. My teachers, meanwhile, were at once amused by my free-thinking and appalled by my laziness, for by then there was only one thing I wanted to do - write songs.

The over-sized piano, permanently ensconced in our under-sized drawing room was the one toy I never tired of hammering (literally, on one particular occasion). In Derry, I had abused it so much that my father had got me lessons so as to lessen my impact on the poor thing. But from the moment I started my preoccupation was not with the easy pieces before me, but with the difficulties of my own compositions. As with those who begin epic novels at 10, and who finish their first short story at 30, I started with symphonies that became concertos, then overtures, and finally - songs. These early attempts were quickly filed and forgotten, and more uncompromisingly harsh numbers appeared.

Unconsciously original, these genuinely uninspired works sounded like nothing on Earth. I might have been a famous avant garde composer had my eldest brother not stepped in with the entire works of the Electric Light Orchestra, and changed the face of musical history forever.

With Love,    
Neil Hannon

01. Something For The Weekend

Inspired by Kate Beckinsale's lovely face, and the idea that if anybody quite that beautiful ever took the slightest bit of interest in me, I'd be forever wondering whether they were simply humouring me, or had some more devious intentions hidden up their delicate sleeves. The idea, as the album opener, is that while love is a dangerous game, and usually ends in heartbreak, it's usually much more fun to dive in head first!

02. Becoming More Like Alfie

Oh, come on! It's alright to be a laddish, mysogonistic wanker, isn't it? And besides, I can express it in a darling, retro-cockney pastiche just like everybody else...Or can I?

03. Middle Class Heroes

There's been a lot of talk about this song. Maybe...maybe too much talk. This song is not a snobby song. This song is really rather good. Gritty observation plus a little barbed comment, seedy sub-text? That's down to you. How low can you go?

04. In & Out of Paris & London

...This low!

05. Charge

Correction...this low. This is about as low as I'll ever get. Savour the moment, folks.

06. Songs of Love

A meditation on the strange anomalies of my trade. While most young guns are out there having some fun (crazy ladies keeping them on the run), wise guys like me realize there's danger in emotional ties, and stay home at nights strumming themselves to sleep.

07. The Frog Princess

"I met a girl, she was a frog princess, and yes, I do regret it now. But how was I supposed to know that just one kiss could turn my frog into a cow?" All lies, of course, but it sounds quite cool. I think this song better than any illustrates the complete futility of trying to somehow explain a song. I could give you the lyrics, but I'd prefer you to hear them in context. And everything that lies beyond that is...well, beyond that. The whole may be greater than the sum of it's parts, but that unaccountable difference can only be found in the imagination of the listener; the creator is much too close to the nuts and bolts to lend any particular insight, at least, not yet.

08. A Woman of The World

One more Divine Comedy song in which Audrey Hepburn plays the lead, and Neil Hannon plays everything else. I suppose if you crammed me into a nice old leather armchair, stuffed a cigar in my gob, a daquari in my hand, and a Cole Porter disc on the gramophone, you might get some sense out of me regarding this song. However, it all seems a bit too much like hard work at the moment, so tough luck!

09. Through A Long And Sleepless Night

So as to make this carry-on a little more worthwhile, I'll let you in on a little secret: The words (and there are a lot of them) for this song were taken entirely from the leftovers in my notebook - those lines and song idea's that I hadn't been able to make use of elsewhere. It makes for a rather bizarre, but strangely illuminating, six minutes of paranoia.

10. Theme From Casanova

From the ridiculous to the sublime. This is probably the purest expression of Divine Comedy schizophrenia to date, and I didn't have to say a word on it.

11. The Dogs And The Horses

Recorded live at Abbey Road with a forty piece orchestra on the greatest day of my life. "Every horse has it's year, and every dog it's day." Goodbye.

Singles

• 10/91 "Timewatch" 12" (Set 008)
• 01/92 "Europop" 12" (Set 011)
• 11/93 "Indulgence No.1" 7", picture disc (DC 001)
• 06/94 "Indulgence No.2" 7", limited live (DC 002)

Albums

• 07/90 Fanfare For the Comic Muse mini-album (SetLP/CDM2)
• 08/93 Liberation (SetLP/CD011)
• 03/94 Promenade (SetLP/MC/CD013)
• 08/96 Casanova (SetLP/MC/CD025) (Set US-002)

Visit EUROPOP, a Web site celebrating the Divine Comedy.