Pulp, OVO Hydro, Glasgow, review: Jarvis Cocker and co are in their pomp as their UK tour begins

Telegraph

6 hours ago

Britpop's bleached bones are being gathered and reassembled at an extraordinary rate. Bands from Britain's mid-1990s guitar music scene who are touring this year include Supergrass, Gene, Cast, Echobelly and, of course, Oasis. You suspect that standing in the metaphorical wings watching this with folded arms and archly raised eyebrows are Sheffield's Pulp, one of the public's most cherished Britpop-era groups. Not only have Jarvis Cocker's troupe been reunited since 2023, with a previous comeback in 2011, but they last week released their first new album since 2001, an age-appropriate song collection called More that technically frames them as a current proposition rather than revivalists.
But labels don't matter because… What. A. Show. The opening night of Pulp's tour in Glasgow was a two-part extravaganza that dazzled, moved and delighted. I've seen the band perform four times since 2011 – the last, a month ago ­– and I was shocked at how good this concert was: perfectly paced, meticulously crafted, musically rich and lavishly produced, with six box-fresh new songs that fitted seamlessly among the decades-old favourites. If you think you've seen Pulp in their pomp, think again. Beg, borrow or steal a ticket to this tour.
Pulp's seedy edges were very much still there – velvet-clad Cocker, 61, prowled, preened and pointed like the misfit art student he once was – but, with up to 20 musicians on stage, the band's kitchen sink anthems have rarely sounded so cinematic.
They came on just after 8pm, early for a rock concert. A red curtain parted and, backlit by blue, silhouettes of the band's four core members – Cocker, keyboardist Candida Doyle, guitarist Mark Webber and drummer Nick Banks – rose through the tiered stage floor on a platform. Take that, Take That. But it was a contrivance: it was Cocker with three cardboard cut-outs. Of course it was. The rest of the band were in situ and broke into slinky comeback single Spike Island. Augmented by members of Cocker's erstwhile solo band Jarv Is and a sizeable string section wearing hands-free 'Madonna microphones', Pulp gave their catalogue the full John Barry treatment. Sorted for E's & Wizz, 1995's wry take on rave culture, saw the band don bucket hats while lasers filled the arena. It segued into a celebratory Disco 2000, with Cocker scissor-kicking, in total command. Roughly 12,500 Glaswegians bounced as streamers fell. And it wasn't even nine o'clock.
Old songs took on new life. Stunning lighting gave Sunrise, the largely-forgotten 2001 track, the potency of a Mayan religious ritual. Help the Aged, played for the first time since 2012, became slyly postmodern when Cocker asked the crowd to sing a particularly high line that his voice no longer reaches. Talking of age, there was even an interval. Very civilised. The only interval Oasis would take would be an enforced one if Liam threw a tambourine at Noel (entirely possible).
This was a show of clever and surprising light and shade. The core members played a stripped-back Something Changed, busker-style. Yet on the full-band The Fear, two backing singers appeared – as if from nowhere – in long yellow sequinned dresses. Everything was helped by a sound system in the OVO that was as sharp as one of Cocker's suits.
The years fell away for Common People, with all ages – students and oldies alike – belting it out, arms aloft. This was Pulp in glorious HD. 'I was born to perform,' Cocker sang on Spike Island. You're telling me. A joy from start to finish.