The Great Northern Songbook - 6. Tonight We Fly

Back in 1994, there wasn't a great market for pop music with Baroque string arrangements. But that was never going to deter Neil Hannon, the Enniskillen artist who wore tweed suits, read a great many books and who had notions well above his station. He was releasing records as The Divine Comedy and with his 1993 album, 'Liberation' the template of the raffish young fogey had been presented.

His 1994 offering was a collection called 'Promenade'. Not much of a rock and roll title, but by now, Hannon-watchers expected something more rich. Which in this case was a vaguely conceptual record about a 24 hour period and two former lovers meeting in a seaside town.

This timescale allowed the characters to indulge in literature and excellent cuisine, drinking and French cinema. Pretentious? But of course. Neil was a great exemplar of the exotic, lyrical list, and 'Promenade' was the supreme proof of that.

A lot of these songs had been composed at the parental home on a Bechstein Grand Piano. Which pained his father, Brian Hannon, Bishop of Clogher, just a little. While he was writing his sermons, his son was writing songs with rhythmic, stuttering cadences. In this respect, Neil was influenced by the English composer Michael Nyman. Legend has it that Neil eventually presented Nyman a copy of 'Promenade' and the suggestion that, "you can sue me if you like".

Hannon took to his attic for the basic string arrangements, later finishing this stage of the writing in his brother's flat above a launderette in Ealing. He sketched out the sounds on a digital Yahama keyboard, the best he could manage at this demo stage.

An extremely special song presented itself during these songwriting sessions. It was the perfect way to end the album. According to the narrative of the record, these two individuals have come together after a protracted break. Their rendezvous by the seaside has become an all-consuming passion and what they need is permission to take off. Hence, this glorious idea called 'Tonight We Fly'.

From an early stage in the composition, Neil was sure that it had wings, that it would take the two figures from their amorous clinch on the balcony. He felt it was like one of those mystical paintings by Chagal, wherein the souls take flight from the temporal sphere.

And that's exactly the song's effect. The pair are so perfectly connected, so involved in this moment, that they are taken high above the vanities and the petty concerns of the world around them. They have achieved lift-off.

For the final recordings, Neil was able to add real strings and a cor anglais. This was provided by Joby Talbot, who would become a valued member of the Divine Comedy and its future orchestral ambitions. There was a satisfying counterpoint to the song, with the melodies for alternate pairs of lines, weaving over each other. This was quite an achievement. And while there wasn't the budget to perform this album too many times, the reaction to 'Tonight We Fly' over a score of dates was extraordinary.

Little did Neil Hannon know that it would become almost compulsory to end his concerts with this song during the rest of his career. The song provided a wonderful sense of occasion. It also expressed some of the beautiful empathy between the audience and the composer. After all, 'Tonight We Fly' was about looking into other people's lives. It was about the transcendent and the extraordinary and to that end, it will soar forever.