The Pulps teach us how to age well

Jarvis Cocker has spent his life procrastinating, taking his time. But beneath that apparent slowness, there has always been a constant creative tension, born in the suburbs of Sheffield and raised with the echo of the Beatles in his ears. Even as a boy he knew he wanted to be on a stage: not for fame, but to exist more fully, more truly. That's how Pulp was born, amidst pub gigs, hamburger paychecks, and dreams tucked into ruled notebooks. Over time, the group found its dimension: edgy, lucid and imperfect. But it is only in recent years that Cocker has really let his guard down. After the death of his mother, the loss of bassist Steve Mackey and a broken relationship, a new phase has arrived: the bespectacled singer has discovered that writing without feelings does not work.

Hence 'More', Pulp's first album in twenty-four years. It is not a nostalgic comeback, but an album about the present: about time passing, love changing shape, the wonder we forget to feel. There is the sound of a silent house, the smell of biscuits and simple things. It is an invitation to feel alive, before it is late. This time Cocker has stopped demanding control, without giving up depth. 'More' is not just an album, it is a declaration: we are still here, we can still create, we can still feel. And maybe that's the secret: not to stop looking for beauty, even when it seems hidden. Even when it seems over.

When Pulp reformed for the second time and went on tour in 2023, they started rehearsing a new song, 'Hymn of the North'. By the middle of the following year, the idea of an album was already well defined and by November, in three London weeks of recording, it had taken on the contours of a true choral work: the music for one song was written by Richard Hawley, another by Jason Buckle. The Eno family sings backing vocals in one track and, then, there are string arrangements written by Richard Jones and played by the Elysian Collective.

The most recurrent words in the eleven episodes of 'More' are 'time' and 'love', concepts that break down in a reality made up of ordinary people, such as those who are forced to live near the motorway because they commute. On the other hand, for a band that was born just as Thatcherism was taking shape, irony and intimacy are tried-and-tested weapons with which to shatter the ravages of neo-liberalism, especially those with which the northern part of the country is still reckoning.

"I exist to do this, to shout and point fingers," Cocker sings in the orchestral drive that opens 'More' and inspired by the Stone Roses' historic concert at Spike Island in 1990. He does this beautifully in the melancholic 'Tina', about a long-standing crush, in the sooty glam that has settled over the bitter reflection on coming of age in 'Grown Ups', in the heartbreak of the theatrical and touching 'Slow Jam'. If "Farmers Market" is perhaps the climax, the power of "Go to Have Love" and the Beatlesque "The Hymn of the North" confirm that Pulp's is a great comeback.