If you’ve been paying attention for the past three days, and you are a fan of The Divine Comedy, and you can join the dots, you’ll know why the indie disco playlist is ending like this.
She makes my heart beat the same way
As at the start of Blue Monday
Always the last song that they play
At the indie disco, the indie disco
At the indie disco, yeah
The Divine Comedy, At the Indie Disco
And if you work your way back from that lyric, you should find that the last three bands mentioned before Blue Monday are, in order: Blur, The Cure and The Wannadies. All of which should answer the question “why didn’t he close with Common People, the weird old fool?”. Firstly, oi! no need to get personal, and secondly because I never knowingly let an opportunity for a playlist joke to slide by unused.
It’s worth noting that Neil Hannon has since confessed that he made the whole thing up. At the Indie Disco is not in any way autobiographical. It is an imagined evening at an non-existent regular haunt, with imagined landmarks, and fictional DJs who can always be relied upon to finish the evening the same way.
And Blue Monday itself? Do I need to introduce it, explain it, describe it? Look, it’s Blue Monday, it’s incontestably regarded as the biggest selling 12” record of all time, its original die-cut cover cost more to produce than Factory could make selling the single (this was not the first nor the last piece of terrible Factory money mismanagement), it’s a gateway drug of a track, a bridge between the old world of disco and the coming days of rave, and whichever version of it you happen to find to listen to, you don’t have to love it to know how important it is.