The Divine Comedy – Rainy Sunday Afternoon Review

A beauty in the rainy, end-of-the-week feeling is what The Divine Comedy hopes to capture. They have a better shot at it on Rainy Sunday Afternoon than most. As we crawl into the start of Autumn, it does feel like The Divine Comedy has a read on the season. Those rainy days are an inevitability of permanently overcast skies. Creating an album which muses on that mood, but also tries to elevate and eradicate it, is a noble mission. A break after the knock at office culture on Office Politics gives The Divine Comedy a chance to reassess what he wanted to focus on. Neil Hannon’s topics are now away from the redundancy fears and subtle jabs at jumping through hoops on a short trip to retirement. Rainy Sunday Afternoon takes on a Scott Walker styling, an embrace of the inevitabilities of death and romance. It makes all the difference for The Divine Comedy, and provides one of their best albums to date.  

Achilles has that romanticisation of the end, and to hear it come from Hannon and the band so long after their last album, is rather touching. They have steadied themselves and, like many artists this year, looked for the common beauties. We must cling to those in times of strife. The Last Time I Saw the Old Man could be an encounter with a regular at the bar or café, their final time sudden and unplanned. Whatever it is that makes them stop going, it applies to the youth, too. Nobody knows when their last time is, and The Divine Comedy does brilliantly to counter the finality of life with the unexpected nature. When will it be the final time we visit somewhere, carry out a task? Nobody can, truly, know. Rainy Sunday Afternoon starts strong and maintains a lucid feeling throughout, with The Man Who Turned Into a Chair a chance to hear those acid-tipped stories.  

Rainy Sunday Afternoon does well to balance those world-weary fixations with lighter spots, which also fixate on the state of the planet. Instrumental variety is crucial when dealing out the same message. The Divine Comedy does well to straddle that tone, and the title track has a floaty, Beach Boys-like tone to it. A real treat of a listen, with the brass backing and foot-tapping qualities. What it and All the Pretty Lights serve is a transition into the cool rock grooves and theatrical twist of the latter half. Down the Rabbit Hole is an excellent piece, a swell of instrumental and written brilliance. Songs to follow like Mar-a-Lago by the Sea are on the nose but hold such charm to them in their political target that it’s hard not to, at the very least, enjoy the dressing down of those across the pond.  

Rainy Sunday Afternoon does return to that lazy weekend feeling, the sombre moments as we return to work. Can’t Let Go has a piano solo which finds beauty in the bleak. It is what The Divine Comedy sets out, and successfully does, throughout Rainy Sunday Afternoon. Hannon and the band play well while also speaking their truth. Their read on the world is a readily accepted one because it’s accurate. There are those who want to be left alone to their lazy days without the fear taking hold or leading their actions. That much is as respectable as those commandeering change, and you can hear sprinklings of protest through The Divine Comedy’s latest. Rainy Sunday Afternoon brings on an emotionally fulfilling tone, and what remains a constant throughout is the sense of hope prevailing in spite of the horror.