A funny thing happened with the Divine Comedy’s new album, Foreverland.

It became their highest charting record ever, nearly 20 years after they were enjoying a flurry of hit singles and turning up regularly on Top of the Pops.

“It was a lovely blast from the past,” says their main man Neil Hannon, ahead of a gig at the Kelvingrove Bandstand on Friday night.

“You don’t rule anything out and you hope for the best, but where we are now is that we just do our thing and try and let as many people know that it exists. You’re not going to be disappointed that you don’t crash into the top 10 or that a radio station doesn’t want to play your new single.

“I plough my own furrow. I rejoice when somebody says to me ‘I’ve just found out about you and want to come to all your shows’, but there’s no point in me pretending that I’ll break America or be Robbie Williams. I don’t care, because I don’t want to be, and I like the level that we are at.”

The album is Neil’s first under the Divine Comedy banner in several years, after time spent focusing on other projects, including his cricket themed band the Duckworth Lewis Method, writing an opera commission and then working on a piece for organ.

However Foreverland is like the Divine Comedy had never been away, a witty pop record that delves into history and Neil’s own life, weaving details of Napoleon and Catherine the Great into songs that look at love and life.

“I’m not good at writing exactly what is on my mind, with no disguise,” says Neil.

“I find that grating, and when I see people singing like that I almost don’t believe them, like I’m not sure they should be telling me this. Either that, or you go ‘get over yourself – why should we care that you’re having a bad day?’ A little subtlety now and again is good.”

That attitude led the band to enjoy a steady support over the years, even after some of the fans from their chart heyday in the 90s, when they were popping up with tunes like Generation Sex and the inescapable National Express, had departed.

Neil admits there was a period of time when that worried him, before he was able to focus again on what mattered most.

“I was relaxed while it was happening and we were having hits, but the problem came when time moved on, and suddenly I was thinking ‘hmmm, I’m not on Top of the Pops anymore, what’s happening?’,” he reflects.

“That worried me for a four or five year period in the early 2000s and then I got over myself and got on with my primary role, which is to write music and enjoy playing it. The rest of it can take care of itself, and I’m very lucky that it has done. I’m always aware of my luck there.”

Luck, however, was in perhaps in short supply when he visited the Barrowland early in his career. As the Divine Comedy started to become more successful, offers to tour with other bands started to come in. Not all of them were a great fit…

“I remember supporting Supergrass at the Barrowland and that was a fascinating one. The audience really weren’t there to see us in our purple suits and ties, but we got through it – since then it’s been plain sailing in Glasgow, with lovely audiences and nice places.

“I am looking forward to the next gig, because the Bandstand sounds a fascinating venue to play. We’ve got TeenCanteen supporting us too, and they have some good tunes.”

Neil is clearly pleased to be back at the day job, but he enjoyed getting to test himself with some of his other musical challenges over the past few years.

“It was terrifying and challenging,” he adds.

“When someone comes to you and says ‘can you write a half hour opera’ you think that you’ll give it a go because that sounds cool. That was the hardest of the ones I attempted, and it was only moderately successful. But those seasons are to test the boundaries of what you’re capable of.

“I did a thing called In May and I think it’s pretty good – it’s long and pretty depressing, but it’s a job well done if I don’t say so myself. If you don’t try it then you’ll never know…”

The Divine Comedy, Kelvingrove Bandstand, Friday, £32.50, 6.30pm

JONATHAN GEDDES