30th November, Brixton Academy
For the first time, I was wary about seeing Pulp. Having long loved the band, well, at least since 95 anyhow, when We Love Life was released just a month ago it became the first album that I’d not been able to get to grips with. It’s the first six tracks that worry, distinctly lacking in any kind of humour, and far too drawn out and needlessly wordy. ‘Weeds’ especially causes concern - I’m fine with the Mishapes/Misfits descriptive tag, but Weeds sounds so Nineteen Eighties, so The Beano, and so, well, weak, I doubt other fans will take to it either.
The Pulp that I love is the band that celebrates seediness, craves success, and whose sexual frustration is worn on their sleeves (though hopefully not literally). But We Love Life, whilst still showing occasional signs of humour towards it's end, seems more mature, in a sensible and tired kind of way, and whilst the darkness found within This Is Hardcore rears it’s head from time to time, Jarvis seems more resigned to it’s effects than previously. Bird’s In Your Garden, Bad Cover Version and The Trees are great fun, and a clear sign that the old Jarvis is alive and well. But that’s just in three songs from an album of eleven.
And so worries persisted. The support bands, chosen by Pulp, hardly inspired confidence either. First were Princess Superstar, a female vocalist, and male guitarist, dj, and second vocalist. Shouting a lot over a mix of guitars and beats. And it’s awful, desperate to be cool dance music, with many Ali G-ism’s which are really starting to grate these days. They’ve got confidence alright, as Princess Superstar shows in spades as she goes topless at the end of their set, but so few people are actually paying any attention, it’s surprising she bothers demeaning herself in such a way.
The Fat Truckers came next, with a selection of comedy dance music and comedy dancing. And it’s not just awful, but fucking, shitting, cuntingly awful. The kind of music that gives you tourettes syndrome when reviewing it, then. One song consists of the lead singer repeating ‘teenager doubter’ for four minutes, whilst doing a mixture of John Cleese-like funny walks and the moves from the Birdie song. It could be post-ironic-modernism for all I care – it’s appallingly tediously shite in this context, and thirty minutes of my life are wasted – and by the end I’ve turned in to the most hated of gig goer, the heckler. But I just can’t help it, they’re just so bad, plausibly the worst band I’ve ever seen live, and it’s of little surprise when others around me start telling the band to fuck off too.
And so now I’m really worried. Having endured two appalling acts for the last two hours, if Pulp are on less than stellar form, then it could be one of the most depressing nights of my life. That they take half an hour to appear on stage post-The Fat Truckers doesn’t help my nerves either, and when they eventually arrive on stage to the opening bars of Weeds, well, things don’t bode well at all.
But how could I have doubted Jarvis? After all, he’s never let me down yet. Live, Weeds sounds beautiful, far more subtle than on record, mature, but in a good way. Whilst Minnie Timperly still doesn’t convince, when Something Changed begins, the crowd’s roar grows steadily louder, and doesn't stop increasing all night. Thankfully, much of the night’s selection of songs come from His ‘N’ Hers, Different Class and This Is Hardcore as well as We Love Life, and all of Jarvis’ frustrations and obsessions make perfect sense when combined together like this.
While a lot of the songs played cover dark themes: with The Tree’s and Live Bed Show mourning failed relationships; Sorted For E’s and Wizz commiserating the solitary come down post drugs; This Is Hardcore and Underwear mocking emotionless sex; and Joyriders satiriseing teenage boredom, it’s the humour in each, even when Jarvis is at his lowest, that makes them so meaningful, and when played together like this, you realise that Pulp have always been a pretty hardcore band, and not just of late.
And of course it’s not all dark stuff - Bird’s In Your Garden is all about finding the confidence to make love to the one you love, but with a fantastic chorus that is made for thousands to sing along too. And in Sunrise we find Jarvis at his most optimistic, which sounds utterly beautiful tonight, and a surprisingly refreshing change from the aforementioned darker themes. And if it’s the way forward for the band, and there should always be a way forward, I can’t think of a better one.
Two encores make me regret not taking better care of my jaded body, as by the end of Babies, and with more too come, I’m ready to collapse. But a re-jigged Laughing Boy and Underwear gives time for recovery, and of course there’s only one song left which they can end on. And Common People makes the whole room erupt in one joyful scream of appreciation, and everyone, and I mean everyone in the room sings every word. If there’s a better way of ending a gig, I’ve not seen it yet.
Of course you should never judge a band by their latest album, and Pulp prove this tonight, whilst at the same time showing how they’re stronger than ever. So maybe not every song is perfect. The majority are, and what more can you ask from a band? Worries and wariness seem ridiculous now. How could I have ever lost faith in JC?
Alex Finch
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