A Short Album About Love

Another train, another album. I'm travelling from London to Montrose, having spent the previous evening watching my daughter Astrid in *Titanique*, then overslept and somehow managed to breakfast, pack, check out of my hotel and catch my train in eighty minutes. I'm now heading north, accompanied for part of the journey by some hyperactively chatty Aston Villa supporters. I had rather hoped today's album might be The Only Ones, but instead I've been presented with Neil Hannon, a thirty-piece orchestra and approximately half an hour of extravagant romantic declarations. I approached this with some trepidation. I have always suspected that Hannon's baritone sounds excessively pleased with itself, and I wasn't particularly looking forward to seven consecutive demonstrations. It turns out that my expectations were largely justified, although the album took me somewhere rather more interesting than I anticipated. *A Short Album About Love* is an extraordinarily elaborate undertaking for something so slight. Recorded in October 1996 with the Brunel Ensemble, arranged by Joby Talbot and released the following February, it represents Hannon's enthusiastic embrace of a particular strain of orchestral pop. The influence of Scott Walker is unmistakable, with Jacques Brel lurking somewhere behind him. There are enormous string arrangements, dramatic brass interventions, theatrical changes of emphasis and a baritone determined to convey the impression of a man experiencing emotions of almost unbearable significance. Unfortunately, Hannon isn't Scott Walker. As Lloyd Bentsen might have observed, Senator, I've listened to Scott Walker, and you're no Scott Walker. It's not simply a matter of vocal quality, although there are problems there. Hannon sets himself some ambitious tessitura goals, and I admire his willingness to explore the extremes of what his instrument can manage. He doesn't always nail them, though, and the enormous orchestral setting sometimes exposes a certain lack of vocal weight and authority. Walker could inhabit this kind of material with a seemingly effortless conviction, whereas Hannon sometimes sounds as though he's concentrating rather too hard on sounding like someone who possesses it. Having spent the previous evening watching a genuinely accomplished theatrical singer, one who happens to share half my genes, I was particularly conscious of the difference between vocal ambition and convincing execution. I have no objection to theatrical excess. I actively enjoy it. But there's a distinction between inhabiting a performance and demonstrating how terribly sophisticated you are for attempting it. And that's where Hannon's difficulties really begin. Walker's conviction is replaced by a sort of Wildean flippancy, a mannered detachment in which almost every emotional statement arrives accompanied by an arched eyebrow. Hannon seems reluctant to allow a sentiment to stand without decorating it with some ingenious observation or whimsical conceit. The result is occasionally charming, frequently amusing, and increasingly exasperating. The opener, *In Pursuit of Happiness*, establishes the method immediately. Relatively mundane statements are accompanied by orchestration of quite absurd grandeur. I rather liked the disproportion. There's something inherently funny about hearing commonplace romantic aspirations treated as though they constitute an announcement of enormous historical importance. The orchestra appears to believe that civilisation itself may depend upon the outcome of Hannon's romantic affairs. But I wasn't entirely convinced by the execution. The arrangement seemed to sag in places, as though the ensemble wasn't being driven particularly effectively. I can't say whether the responsibility lies with the conducting, the playing or the arrangement itself, but the music occasionally loses forward momentum. That's significant because this sort of musical comedy relies upon precision. If the orchestra is going to treat something trivial as monumental, it needs to do so with absolute conviction. *Everybody Knows (Except You)* continues in much the same territory. There's a genuinely memorable melody here, and that's an important qualification to almost everything I'm about to say. Hannon is very good at writing tunes. Throughout the album I found myself recognising little melodic ideas that could easily survive outside their elaborate orchestral settings. This is thoroughly hummable music. Nevertheless, by the second track the contrast between lyrical mundanity and orchestral grandeur is already beginning to feel like an established formula. I started wondering whether someone had devoted rather more compositional effort to the arrangements than to the songs themselves. The orchestra keeps announcing the importance of what Hannon is saying, but I'm not entirely convinced that the words deserve such treatment. *Someone* improves matters considerably. At nearly six minutes, it's the longest piece on the record, and it benefits from not rushing towards its conclusions. The arrangement has space to develop, and I was reminded of *The Age of the Understatement* by The Last Shadow Puppets, which we'd reviewed some months earlier. There's a similar enthusiasm for grand orchestral pop, but here the music is allowed to establish a sense of progression rather than delivering another extravagant gesture every few seconds. More importantly, there isn't an enormous amount of lyrical material. Consequently, Hannon has fewer opportunities to interrupt proceedings with his Temu Oscar Wilde ironicisms. The orchestra and melody can get on with their business without the constant intrusion of a songwriter determined to demonstrate his verbal ingenuity. It was a welcome improvement. Unfortunately, *If…* brought everything crashing down. I have seldom encountered a song so determined to establish a world record for questionable metaphors. Hannon embarks upon a succession of conditional comparisons, each apparently intended to outdo its predecessor in whimsical inventiveness. The problem isn't merely that the device becomes repetitive. It's that some of the comparisons are so extraordinarily ill-judged that I found myself wondering what on earth possessed him to write them. The transformation of romantic devotion into an elaborate fantasy involving animal ownership is particularly bewildering. The beloved is variously imagined in terms of domestic animals, complete with promises of care, feeding and unquestioning dependence. At one point I noticed that the lyrics display offered a *Report a Concern* option, which struck me as an unexpectedly perceptive piece of editorial criticism. I described the song as *Smack My Bitch Up with manners*. That's not an accusation that Hannon is advocating abusive relationships. It's an expression of astonishment at the sheer creative judgement involved in presenting these peculiar fantasies as sophisticated romantic comedy. I'm fascinated by bad decisions that survive all the stages necessary to become a finished record. Someone writes an idea down, rehearses it, arranges it, records it, mixes it, masters it and releases it. At every stage there are opportunities to reconsider. In this instance, there's the additional irony that Hannon reportedly re-recorded much of his vocal material after the orchestral sessions. The prospect of him returning to the studio and solemnly repeating these lines into a microphone only increases the *what were you thinking?* quotient. And then there's *My Lovely Horse*. Hannon co-wrote that gloriously ridiculous song for *Father Ted*, and I found myself concluding that it works considerably better than *If…*. The parody understands precisely how absurd it is. Its banality is carefully constructed, its ridiculousness entirely purposeful. By contrast, Hannon's ostensibly more sophisticated romantic writing seems to be wandering into exactly the same territory without exercising the same comic judgement. *If I Were You (I'd Be Through with Me)* continues the problem. There's a perfectly reasonable emotional premise here: the recognition that someone you love might be better off without you. That could be affecting, even devastating, in the right hands. Unfortunately, Hannon seems incapable of leaving it alone. Once again we encounter horses, pastures and grazing, until I began wondering whether his entire understanding of romantic relationships had been acquired from an equestrian handbook. Two consecutive songs explaining human affection through the management of livestock seems excessive even by his standards. By this stage the album had fallen to two stars in my estimation. I was becoming thoroughly irritated by its competitive archness. The frustrating thing is that I could imagine enjoying the entire record under different circumstances. Put it on in the background, allow those lovely melodies and expansive arrangements to drift past, and it would probably be rather agreeable. I could even imagine singing along enthusiastically, with my tongue firmly in my cheek. There's plenty of pleasure to be had from the music if you don't examine it too closely. But this is one of Robert Dimery's *1001 Albums You Must Hear Before You Die*. Its inclusion invites something more than casual appreciation. Close listening is precisely what this project requires, and close listening was exposing a succession of weaknesses beneath the elaborate surface. Then came *Timewatching*. What an extraordinary change. Almost immediately, the smoking jacket came off and I could see a human being underneath. This is a genuinely affecting song. It reminded me of the standard *When I Fall in Love*, but with its romantic assurances transformed into something altogether more haunted. Instead of celebrating love's permanence, Hannon seems preoccupied with the passage of time, the fragility of happiness and the knowledge that everything we cherish exists under the shadow of mortality. Suddenly there's something worth saying, and the music responds magnificently. Talbot's arrangement is appropriate, startling and beautiful. The orchestral grandeur that had previously seemed so disproportionate becomes entirely justified. Rather than inflating a relatively trivial sentiment into an enormous gesture, the instruments seem to articulate something that the words themselves cannot fully accommodate. The music is allowed to be mysterious, apprehensive and vulnerable. And Hannon's singing becomes much more convincing. Not because he's suddenly acquired Scott Walker's voice, but because he no longer appears so concerned with demonstrating his sophistication. There's a sincerity here that I found profoundly refreshing after the preceding excursions into verbal cleverness. It's particularly interesting that *Timewatching* originally appeared on *Liberation*, rather than being composed specifically for this album. It suggests that Hannon already possessed the capacity for the emotional honesty that so much of the surrounding material seems determined to avoid. This was the song that rescued the album from two stars and restored it to three. More than that, it made the rest of the record seem rather more frustrating. It demonstrated exactly what Hannon and Talbot could achieve together when the musical resources were employed in pursuit of something genuinely substantial. Unfortunately, the closing *I'm All You Need* doesn't sustain the improvement. It's a rather slight composition, opening with its chorus and proceeding through essentially the same verse-and-chorus construction three times. Repetition isn't intrinsically objectionable, but here it doesn't seem to achieve much beyond reiterating a sentiment that was perfectly clear the first time. And, inevitably, there's another horse reference. By now I was contemplating whether the animal required professional dental attention. The song is attractive enough, but it doesn't develop its ideas sufficiently to justify its duration or its place as the album's conclusion. After *Timewatching*, it feels like a return to the familiar limitations of Hannon's approach. By Darlington, the album was finished and my verdict settled. The Villa supporters were still enthusiastically contributing their own verbal performances, although they were due to disembark at Newcastle. What remains is an intriguing contradiction. I enjoyed a good deal of this record. The melodies are memorable, the arrangements frequently delightful, and the musical ambition is undeniable. Hannon has a distinctive artistic personality, and I would much rather encounter someone attempting something extravagant than someone content to produce anonymous competence. But ambition and achievement aren't interchangeable. Neither are cleverness and intelligence. That's ultimately my problem with *A Short Album About Love*. It's clever, but not intelligent. There is a tremendous amount of ingenuity on display, but comparatively little evidence of the judgement required to decide when that ingenuity actually serves the music. Hannon repeatedly mistakes an elaborate conceit for a developed idea, an ironic observation for an insight, and a grand musical gesture for emotional significance. It's a case of gesturing with big tools. Nor is this an objection to humour, absurdity or theatrical artifice. Some of my favourite music is ridiculous. Ivor Cutler could construct entire imaginative worlds out of ideas considerably stranger than anything Hannon attempts here. The difference is that Cutler's absurdity has its own peculiar internal truth. It isn't primarily an advertisement for how clever its creator happens to be. Hannon's problem is that he too often seems determined to remain one step removed from his own material, admiring the effect he's creating rather than committing himself to what he's expressing. The cultivated persona becomes a barrier between the listener and the song. And *Timewatching* shows that the barrier is unnecessary. When Hannon abandons the knowing performance of sophistication, he can produce something beautiful, intelligent and emotionally convincing. The arrangement becomes an instrument of revelation rather than decoration, and the singer finally seems to believe what he's singing. That single achievement is enough to prevent my dismissing the album, but not enough to convince me that the whole deserves its position in the canon. Three stars, then. A pleasant, occasionally infuriating, sometimes musically gorgeous record with one genuinely exceptional moment. The tunes are good. The orchestra is impressive. The singer is ambitious. I just wish he'd stop being so bloody pleased with himself. And leave the horses alone.

Sort of David Bowie-esque, but I actually liked it

Volim Father Ted pa sam upoznata s nekim radovima ovog čovjeka (iako je bend mislim da je u suštini samo jedan lik), ali nisam znala da znam i jednu odličnu pjesmu s ovog albuma (Everybody Knows). Nisu mi sve vrhunske i općenito nije stil muzike koji bih redovno slušala ali je veoma dobro za ono što predstavlja. Sviđa mi se raznolikost pjesama koje dosad znam. Ali je My Lovely Horse nenadmašna.

Enjoyable baroque pop. Reminded me of the soundtrack to a non-existent musical.

Sometimes you throw everything at the wall and nothing actually sticks. This is an ambitious project that had its moments, but for the most part the execution never lived up to the concept.

fun and majestic

One of those albums that is almost done a disservice by being on this list. On its own terms, it’s decent - some good tunes, nice arrangements, and just when think If… is getting uncomfortably creepy, it becomes clear that’s intentional. But when it’s on a list of albums you have to hear before you die, you find yourself going “really?”

2.5 - not terrible but cheesy

Whiny Nice Guy™️ who disrespects trees is not my kind of album.

First listen

Totally forgot all about it and I only listened to it 2 days ago.

It wasn't that bad

The instrumental outro of "Someone" with the swelling strings, dramatic horns? Good shit. The maudlin singing? Eh, not for me, but credit for trying something bold, I guess. And what the hell is going on with "If..."? "If you were a horse, I'd clean the crap right out of your stable/If you were a horse, I'd could ride you in the daylight sun" - DAFUQ

Sounds unexpectedly very over the top and bombastic, almost like listening to a musical. I quite enjoyed it myself and it was a very pleasant experience, but I have a feeling that if this short album were any longer it would have become a little bit samey or tiring, so its shortness is interestingly a plus.

I'm really not a fan of the Divine comedy and had never heard this particular album. It's great though. Exactly what it says on the tin. I appreciated that it was short but the songs are dramatic and beautiful. It can't just be me that saw a nipple on the album cover right?!

Not my jam, very boring. Who hurt you?

Great chamber pop album. I liked this alot, but mainly because I am already a huge fan of Ants from up there by BCNR. Really good. The lyrics could be cheesy sometimes, but again, BCNR prepared me for that.

Massive stinker

Not for me, but okay.

Never heard of this group. Kind of theatrical. It's ok. 2.

Partridge family vibes but i totally mess with it. Just easily listenable, well-produced pop tunes.

Some good stuff here

Good voice, good music, fair songs. The lyrics to "If..." made me chuckle.

Interesting discovery. Will likely return for more listens.

Funny little album. Enjoyable and different. Essential? Possibly not, but a decent listen overall.

The first couple of tracks were hitting alright, but by the end of the album I just wanted him to shut up. The build on these songs… I just felt like I wanted it to end. Unpleasant.

It was decent to good. Might revisit a few

Not really my thing at all, even though I like some of the instrumentation and melodies. The vocals just don't do much for me, and I didn't find the silly lyrics that funny. Everyone Knows is a pretty good song, but I knew that already. It's just a half hour album, but feels longer. Preffered Casanova.

"Someone" feels like a modern Elvis ballad. In 1997. How about that. Made the poor vocals in "In Pursuit of Happiness" less acceptable. Very weird, especially "If..."

At least it was short.

Beatles-esque art pop. A very warm production with an impressive wall-of-sound orchestral sound. The singer has a rich baritone.

2/5

I'm not a dog and I don't want your scraps off the table (0.6/5) From another review "peak gen X garbage. Congrats it's 1990 and you're pretending to be Sinatra"

Honestly, I wish this was longer. Quite enjoyed this. Very orchestral, very baroque, very British, erm I mean Irish

Got to love The Devine Comedy. It's not just Father Ted you know! I'm not sure what's historically significant about this album though, and it doesn't have the big hitters. So it comes in right about average

i liked it started to get kinda boring

What a fun and surprising little album. Has this Scott Walker vibe to it (that you know I must love). Simple yet compelling songs about love. Very dramatic and innocent. Arranged and especially seng beautifully. What more can you ask? It's a keeper. A 4

7/10

Their album Casanova I thought was very good. This one got a lot of the same traits, but is a little less engaging and dynamic. Again instrumentals are great as is the vocal delivery and bizarre lyrics.

Well, well, well, what have we here? Sounds like a modern day Burt Bacharach using Brad Roberts of the Crash Test Dummies as his vehicle to make an album that might have made sense 30 years ago. This kind of works as a parody of pompous love songs, although I don’t believe Mr. Hannon is aiming for parody here. I believe he just wants this to be an album of…pompous love songs. Ew.

muy bueno y cortito, banqué

This is, in fact, a short album about love. But to be confused with 69 Live Songs: a long album about love. I've kind of figured out that The Divine Comedy is an alt-rock-y crooner at this point, and A Short Album About Love isn't exactly my thing, but it is fine. This is a little low impact, but it is often funny and clever. If... In particular may be my favorite here because of the wit. Regardless,vI feel that a 2 is fine here, this was a brisk, relatively strong listen, in a genre I don't like, with an aesthetic I don't really like.

I have quite liked other albums by The Divine Comedy, but this is a letdown. This would be entirely forgettable were it not for its juvenile lyrics. I think, if I were an artist, I'd rather be forgotten than remembered as having written lyrics in 5th grade that I wasted a bunch of money and time on by hiring an orchestra to record them. The orchestra is pretty great though. I could handle a whole album of them playing these songs without the bad lyrics their sub-par delivery. As it is, I'm two songs from the end, wishing I was listening to something else, but I feel too close to finishing to quit. Fuck it. I can guess what the rest of this song and the next one will sound like. I'm out ⭐⭐

3,4 Highlights: Everybody Knows (Except You), Someone

This seems to be trying quite hard, but honestly nothing really hits home. The lyrics are meant to be deep and witty, but they don't quite get there. The arrangements are aiming for Disney musical tunes, but only get to direct to video.

I did not know this one but I really liked it

mehhh

'I'm absolutely / & totally / Quite uncontrollably happy.' Save the difference of length, which is substantial, A Short Album About Love is very much like 69 Love Songs. Neil Hannon is no Stephin Merrit - he lacks the stunning & absolute virtuosic element - but Neil nonetheless follows the love theme - the theme none of us can do w/o - beautifully, &, like Merritt, he is able to marry wit w/ sincerity. Count me as surprised - I didn't like Cassanova, & didn't think that The Divine Comedy had it 'em to make music this moving & meaningful - but that's what sincerity will get you. 'But the moment I can feel / That you feel that way too / Is when I might fall in love w/ you.' Add to that a recovery of baroque pop a la Scott Walker, & I'm a happy camper.

Ok

Eu teria me viciado infinitamente nisso aos 15 anos. E gostei demais aos 28.

Nothing really stood out to me

No. I enjoyed his wife's music much more.

It’s short but solid.

I kept waiting for the albums this week to get better and this was not it. I am not even sure where to start with this album. First off, had I not known ahead of time that it was from 1997, I would have guessed it was from the late 70s to early 80s, which in this case was not a good thing. The lyrics and vocals were all over the place. I am being generous and giving it 2 stars as it is not the worst I have heard, but it was definitely below average.

Yesterday I got Finley Quaye, a violent Scottish man pretending to be Jamaican who also released an album in 1997, it was almost twice as long as this and felt even longer. This is much better, I always enjoy vocal forward music, provided the voice is good and the lyrics are decent, as they are here, Americans won’t get them because they don’t do irony but that’s their weakness, not Hannon’s. This isn’t the best Divine Comedy album but it’s still very good. One of the top reviews says he’s trying to be Sinatra. Bollocks, as Hannon himself says, Scott Walker is one of his biggest influences and he does make it obvious. Quite happy that a lot of people hate this, it makes it easier to get tickets to their gigs, which I did earlier this year and loved it because Hannon is a genius and a great live performer.

Chamber pop is a hit or miss for me. This is the only take away I’ve got from this one particular album (and it was a miss unfortunately)

I love this album!!!

Crazy how many of the one-star reviews here don't seem to get Hannon's schtick, or get beyond the immediate face value of the songs. That said, it's a slight and pretty minor affair, and nothing quite matches up to his best stuff (Our Mutual Friend, A Lady of a Certain Age, Tonight We Fly), so seems a bit of an odd selection.

For this buffoon to have the same number of albums on this list as Elvis is a sham.

Pretty interesting sound, nice album title and pretty good lyrics.

6.6/10

Between a 2 and 3 for me

Not my style but good music

There was one part where I thought, oh that's good. But the rest is just boring

I love the over the top and almost cinematic feel to this album. Really refreshing.

Syrupy sweet orchestration and vocals to match seems from a different era. I warmed up to it by the end but it is a journey of discovery.

Not sure who at the divine comedy was sleeping with to get this album into the 1001 albums you must listen to, but I’m regretful that I did listen to it. Onto the next one

i dunno man

Never heard of it, and it's not too bad, but this might be another 2 from me as I am way too generous on this list, and to be honest there is nothing much specialk about this record, it's not bad by any means but kind of average as well, could take it or leave it just fine.

Not short enough

lots of drama

1/5

Decent stuff!

Catchy!

Aren't they just resurrecting a style of music which was popular several decades earlier? How is this original or worth listening to as one of a relatively small number of albums from all recorded music of the past 75 years? It's not crap but it's eminently not original or ground-breaking. The guy did write the theme tune to Father Ted so 2*'s for that.

It's like if the Magnetic Fields 69 Love Songs was a tight, 30-minute album with a much fuller band. I totally loved this. A couple of skippable songs, but the rest were bangers. 4.5 stars, came close to 5 for me.

Remember lounge singers? There is a reason you don't. It was a moment in time that happened and we all went, OK. Notice how no one, besides comedy acts, does lounge singing anymore? This album shouldn't be on the list. It's not even good lounge singing. It's just annoying.

I'll admit that I listened to their earlier "Casanova" so long ago (more than two years ago in fact...) that I don't remember much of it aside from what I wrote in my review, which wasn't all that glowing. I'm not sure if this album works a bit better for me simply because it's even more over the top with its retro orchestral-pop style, and maybe also that by diving so far into whatever it is they're committing to (Jacques Brel/Scott Walker? James Bond soundtrack?) makes this album sound more earnest than ironic; it's probably good that there weren't any videos this time around too. I don't think I'm any more of a Divine Comedy fan after this album, but I give them props for refining their approach and delivering it consistently, especially on maudlin tracks like "Someone", "If I were you..." or "I'm all you need". So many strings! So much drama!

The first song is a treat and reminded me of Magnetic Fields. As the album progressed, Jacques Brel came into mind but the lyric writing is not up to the excellence of the voice and the musicianship. Glad I heard it but won't be listening again.

Insane btw. Inspired me to write a short film ???? So far from what I expected but so so good ?? Put this in a 2000s romance movie please.

Asnalegt og leiðinlegt :)

Ég var að fíla kammerpoppið í tætlur. Minnti mig á Scott Walker, góður baritónn, Rúllaði plötunni margoft í gegn og fannst hún bara verða betri.

Overblown and chambery. Now that I've pulled a few of these albums on this list from a style I'd never heard of before, I can unequivocally state that I hate chamber pop. The best thing about this album is that it's short. 1/5

O rany, ale się spocił ten ziomek, a wcale nie powiedział nic sensownego. Nie zapamiętam na długo, pewnie nigdy nie wrócę do tej płyty, nawet nie wiem czy odzyskam te pół godziny z życia.

If you were a horse, I’d shovel the crap out of your stable. Good shit. Doesn’t take itself seriously.

Ugh.

meh

Yikes… this is bad

Second album from this band, I liked Casanova, this one not so much. Every song felt like it lasted forever, and they were so boring. There were a lot of instruments, horns, strings, etc. but they somehow didn’t make the album any less dull.

Not sure I get this one.

This sounded okay for a song or two, but then really started to drag, which is a lot to say for a ~32 minute album. Nothing technically wrong - solid voice and nice instrumentals - but it just felt like it was stale after a bit.

No thank you.

81/100. It came as advertised, a short album about love. A sweet chamber pop record that I ended up liking a lot more than I thought I would. It’s a good idea with some excellent production to go with it.

I don't mind the music here, a times, but his voice and those lyrics give me the boak. What a shit band. It's music for people that love the smell of their own farts, jokes that repeat over and over to the point that you feel rage at the pseudo intellectual bullshit that they are so self satisfied about.

Loved the music. Might be starting to become a fan of chamber pop.

nah

Dont like it

not for me

This is a band that I just never enjoy. Not sure exactly what it is - maybe they try to hard to be clever/high brow. I'm never sure whether it's meant to be funny - it isn't.

well at least it's short. 2/5.