ALBUM REVIEW: Pulp - More

Twenty four years on, Pulp are a little older and wiser, yet still brandish the same whimsical, hedonistic persona that the country first fell in love with. 

While their down-in-history album ‘Different Class’ rages with all the angst and anger of youth, ‘More’ explores the complex journey of middle age. Once looking forward to a melancholy future, we are now looking back on blurry figures of the past, like the enigmatic, rainbow-gloved ‘Tina’ (who also makes a cameo in the subsequent song ‘Grown Ups’). 

The album itself is threaded with poetic intervals of Jarvis Cocker narration, making each song feel like a story, rather than a chorus-heavy, chart-appealing pop hook. The band’s cut-glass originality still shines within each track, as Banks’ stomping drum beats, Webber and Doyle’s cinematic flare and Cocker’s surplus wit combine to create a bricolage of quirky musicality. 

‘Got to Have Love’ is perhaps the bleakest love song ever written, yet still writhes with a thundering indie-disco energy, as shown through the initial staccato instrumentalism. ‘Farmers Market’, on the other hand, is more romantic, laced with an intricate piano melody and liquid-smooth violins, lyrically journeying us through a love-at-first-sight encounter. 

‘Hymn Of The North’, the penultimate track, is lovingly anchored in Sheffieldness, proffering a tender embrace to the band’s proudly-worn Northern identity. Similarly, the closing track ‘A Sunset’ is both peaceful and wistful, perfectly encapsulating the nostalgic spirit of the album – though the sun has certainly not set on Pulp, with a UK and Ireland tour still beaming on the horizon. 

Pulp’s new album has a more worn, lived-in aesthetic than their previous discography – like Britpop after a boil wash, shall we say. With just eleven fly-by tracks, they always know how to leave us wanting more.