Pulp At Wireless Festival 2011 - Hyde Park
Live Review

Pulp At Wireless Festival 2011 – Hyde Park, London

If any clues were needed for the emphasis of Pulp’s major comeback show then all you had to do was catch a glimpse of their recent poster.

Emblazoned all over the London Underground since the band announced their return last November, it features the six members posing as black and white cut-out models before a seaside sunset. ‘PULP’ is spelt out like a tacky number plate from the seventies disco era. It’s one of those logos that sticks with a band as it seems to encapsulate so much of their personality. The poster is a tweaked design that was used in 1995 to advertise the release of Pulp’s iconic album ‘Different Class’ and formed part of the album artwork. It’s an interesting choice of imagery as it suggests the band is now happy to look back and revel in their mid nineties commercial prime. This is certainly not going to be the time or place where the band test out any new material.

As the perplexing Grace Jones leaves the stage, anticipation builds in Hyde Park for Pulp’s first show in London for nine years. Their hiatus began after the band released their ‘Hits’ compilation in 2002 which flopped, prompting front man Jarvis Cocker to comment that “nobody was that arsed about our records anymore”. When captions like ‘Is this a hoax?’ and ‘Are you ready?’ were projected onto a huge black curtain that draped across the front of the stage, the roar from the 30,000+ crowd displayed a clear ‘arsed’ again tendency.

 Moments later the curtain was torn down as Pulp raced into a pulsating ‘Do You Remember the First Time?’ with the kind of fervour that made you realise they wanted to be back. It was a poignant opener as it was Pulp’s first Top 40 hit in 1994 after 16 years of hard graft and false starts. A sleaze filled ‘Pink Glove’ immediately followed with a frantic Cocker climbing speakers and covering every inch of the stage before announcing that he was “too old for this”. In a sense, the crowd wants Jarvis to wear him self out and part of the joy of a Pulp show are the long pauses between songs when Cocker catches a breath and shares his musings and thoughts on the issues of the day. “Although we’re from Sheffield, this feels like a hometown gig” spouts Jarvis to another huge roar.

The singer goes on to explain how London was the city that inspired many of their geographical lyrics and best songs. Despite his dulcet Yorkshire tones, Cocker and the rest of the band have spent significant chunks of their lives in the capital and as their third song ‘Mile End’ begins Cocker is almost apologetic about the brutally stark words he is about to sing. He even suggests that any East Londoners in the crowd might want to put their fingers in their ears. “The lift is always full of piss, the fifth floor landing smells of fish, not just on Friday, every single other day” is just one of the passages Jarvis passionately delivers about his early days spent living in a Mile End tower block. This really reveals Pulp at their best; merging difficult, awkward and depressing tales with wry humour, clever insight and a jauntily pulsating sound. 

Jarvis and co. then proceed to hurtle through half of the songs on Different Class. ‘Disco 2000’ proving to be the obvious hit with the crowd is accompanied by wonderful backdrop visuals of multi coloured dance floor squares that evoke the video that made Jarvis and his gangly dance moves so famous back in ‘95. ‘Sorted for E’s & Wizz’ is a song tailored for being outside in the summer among thousands of people and it inevitably has the entire crowd joyously singing along to every word.

‘F.E.E.L.I.N.G.C.A.L.L.E.D.L.O.V.E.’ and ‘I Spy’ appear less accessible and struggle to maintain the momentum as the middle set sextet from Different Class draws to a close. Jarvis perks up the crowd by self proclaiming his ‘Babies’ dedication to his mum and son as “inappropriate”. “Oh, I wanna take you home, I wanna give you children” is one of many lines that might give you an idea why. He then decides to dedicate it to everyone in the crowd. His affection for the audience only increases from this point onwards, making several references about his appreciation towards us. You’re the “early adopters” remarks Jarvis, a nod towards this show being the first announced since they decided to hit the road again late last year.

As the sky darkens, the stage lighting and bellowing smoke machine engulf the band, adding extra intensity to some of Pulp’s most dramatic songs. ‘This is Hardcore’ is surprisingly the only appearance from Pulp’s 1998 number one album of the same name. It’s a shame as the song is incredible; like many others from the album it reveals Pulp at their most x-rated, troubled, confessional and technically gifted period. The band must have purred over the set list for months, maybe they omitted the near entirety of this album on the basis that Cocker almost suffered a breakdown making it.

‘Sunrise’ follows which whips the crowd into raptures. “I used to hate the sun, because it shone on everything I’d done, made me feel that all I had done, was overfill the ashtray of my life” sings Jarvis on the opening lyrics. Like no other Pulp song, this gem builds and builds as Cocker merges his increasingly upbeat views on nature before climaxing in two separate guitar solos wholly uncharacteristic of the band’s sound. Again, Cocker’s giant, sticklike frame whirls around the entire stage loving every second of it. It’s hard to top but a reflective and hung over ‘Bar Italia’ certainly comes close in matching it.

Jarvis launches into a tirade about the recent construction of One Hyde Park, the enormous tower block penthouse pads that only “billionaires” can afford at the bottom of the park. He points out how we’re literally wedged between Speakers’ Corner at the top end of the park and the rich folk at the bottom. ‘Fuck them!’ barks Cocker, followed by, ‘before leaving you, we just have to play this…’

‘Common People’ is brutal and magnificent. Halfway through the song, confetti shoots from both sides of the stage into the laser beamed sky. The ultimate festival anthem is bellowed by the entire crowd, it’s hard not to be deeply moved by the energy of the song which has lost none of its power since its release 16 years ago. It’s fascinating to hear words of such a personal nature connect with so many thousands of people but that’s what Cocker does best. By turning a mirror on his life he reveals things that we’ve all thought and felt at some point in our own lives. The anger, passion, frustration, boredom, hopes and fears exposed by Jarvis Cocker are just as relevant today as they were the day the songs were written.

With that the victorious band departs and the charismatic Cocker leaves us wanting more. ‘See you all again, in about 15 years probably’. It’ll probably be worth waiting for.

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