Ron's rages are sincere and — according to his wife — healthily cathartic. But can these splenetic outbursts loosen the grip of capitalism at its most monstrous?
A memory lane like no other
Neil Hannon songwritting has withstood admirably the often cruel passage of time, writes JAMES WALSH
The Divine Comedy
Barbican, London
“MAYBE it’s tonight. Maybe tomorrow night, next week, next month, next year / We’ve only time to fear”
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