Yes, the rumours are true: Pulp are getting back together. Jarvis Cocker and Co. are embarking on a series of live gigs, including one just down the road at TRNSMT Festival (and could their itinerary also include a rumoured Glastonbury performance? We will see…)
There’s more to Pulp than their reluctant membership of the 90s Britpop scene alongside Blur and Oasis. In fact, you might be surprised by the strength of their stable of songs. Everyone knows ‘Common People’ – and you may well enjoy some of their other iconic hits, like ‘Babies’, ‘Do You Remember the First Time’, and ‘Disco 2000’ (this author’s karaoke go-to) – but to put you in the mood for their reunion, here are eight of Pulp’s lesser-known gems.
‘I Want You’
Pulp first formed in 1978, when Jarvis Cocker was 15, then spent 15 years plugging away in obscurity, before being catapulted to the pop firmament with His ‘n’ Hers. Unbelievably, Jarvis was already 30 when they hit the mainstream! But their previous albums, though cheaply produced, still pack the odd highlight. On 1987’s Freaks – a flop recorded in one week – there’s the germination of something special, on this lilting, woozy track about commitment issues. Jarvis sounds suitably pathetic, attempting a sort of bruised croon, but it works; the refrain is strong, the guitar shines through, and the melodic spine of Cocker, Russell Senior, and Candida Doyle are all present here, hinting at the greatness to come.
‘Lipgloss’
In 1992, after detaching from their troublesome record label Fire, Pulp staked their entire survival on the sales of their new single, agreeing to disband if it flopped. Luckily, Lipgloss sold well. And of course it did, because it’s fantastic: a superb, sympathetic portrait of a woman abandoned by her boyfriend, but first and foremost a bomb of sugary energy, crowned by the efforts of guitarist Russell Senior who reels off a series of complex guitar riffs with real finesse – leading to the explosively squeaky, highly danceable outro. One of their very best.
‘David’s Last Summer’
Many bands fail with stylistic sprechgesang; it can be a horrible harbinger of Hobo Johnson-style self-indulgence. Not so here, with Cocker detailing a bucolic last summer of innocence, set against a delightful instrumental beset with motion. The final track of His ‘n’ Hers is a dream of idealistic summertimes – a fusion of Marcel Proust and Adrian Mole. The lanky frontman’s spoken word is a perfect complement to the sunlit, bouncing instrumental. A piece of perfection.
‘Bar Italia’
Different Class is, well, a different class to its competitors, with a ream of glorious singles – ‘Common People’, ‘Disco 2000’, ‘Mis-shapes’ et al – but perhaps its finest track lies buried beneath that lot. For any fresher accustomed to the 3am dander home, here’s a whole song about it. And beautifully rendered, too; Cocker’s lyrics mix caustic wit (“If they knocked down this place, this place/It’d still look much better than you”), with customary poignance, as he reassures his ecstasy-fuelled friend: “Don’t worry. It’s just your mind.”
‘Mile End’
Featured on the Trainspotting soundtrack – and a favourite of our own editor-in-chief Lucy – here’s a peppy ode to the reality of 90s dole-bound East London living, no matter what Parklife might tell you. Jarvis’s sardonic lyrics, hinting at JG Ballard but aiming at kitchen-sinkery, take the ‘noble savage’ notion and pump it full of a pencil-factory of lead; they ride above Nick Bank’s clip-clop drums, while the instrumentation blends melds melancholy with pep the Pulp-perfected way.
‘I’m A Man’
Borne out of Cocker’s revulsion to fame, 1998 album This Is Hardcore is more distressed than thrift-shop jeans, from the memento-mori of ‘Help the Aged’ to the fear of, well, ‘The Fear’. But that needn’t mean the music be leaden-footed, and tucked away on its back half is the sneakily fun ‘I’m A Man’. If Britpop’s laddishness was overpowering – and it was – then here’s some desperately-needed balance, buried beneath a bucketload of hip-swaggering fun.
‘Like A Friend’
Incomprehensibly omitted from This Is Hardcore, this song – made for silver-screen Gwyneth Paltrow vehicle Great Expectations – is one of the best things Pulp ever did. An explosion of sonic glitter and romantic drama, underlined by some of Steve Mackey’s stomping best work on bass, and with an unforgettable refrain: “You are the last drink I never should have drunk / You are the body, hidden, in the trunk…”. A remarkable track that you should really pop into those earphones of yours.
‘Sunrise’
The last track of their last album, and what a way to go out. A staple of live sets, ‘Sunrise’ feels like the sun’s rays are striking your back…and then the lyrics trail off shortly after two minutes, leaving three and a half minutes of glorious instrumental. An unsung hero of Pulp, Mark Webber went from president of their fanclub to their lead guitarist; his contribution here is immeasurable, a superb riff crowning Pulp’s inventive era at the top of British pop.
Image “Jarvis Cocker” by mistersnappy is licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 2.0.