Pulp is back for More with first album in 24 years

The Advertiser

2 days ago

Pulp has returned with a new album, their first in 24 years. Who could've predicted that?
Not even the band, it turns out.
The ambitious Britpop-and-then-some band emerged in the late-'70s in Sheffield, England, artistic outsiders with a penchant for the glam, grim, and in the case of Cocker, the gawky. Fame alluded them until the mid-'90s, and then it rushed in with Cool Britannia.
Their songs varied wildly from their contemporaries, like the recently reunited Blur and soon-to-be back together Oasis. Instead, Pulp's David Bowie-informed synth-pop arrived with humour, ambiguity and intellect - songs about sex and class consciousness that manage to be groovy, glib, awkward and amorous all at once.
Then, and in the decades since, Pulp has inspired devotion from loyal fans across generations. They've charmed those lucky enough to catch band members in their heyday before a kind of careerism led to a hiatus in 2002 - and those who saw them for the first time during reunion tours in 2011 and 2022.
With all that reputation on the line, it's reassuring that the band has decided to give its audience More, due for release on Friday.
There were a few catalysts for More.
The first: "We could get along with each other still," jokes drummer Nick Banks. "It wasn't too painful." The second: The band worked a new song into their recent reunion show run - The Hymn of the North, originally written for Simon Stephens' 2019 play Light Falls - and people seemed to like it.
The third and most significant: The band's bassist and core member Steve Mackey died in 2023.
"It made me realise that you don't have endless amounts of time," Cocker says. "You've still got an opportunity to create things, if you want to. Are you going to give it a go?"
And so, they did. Cocker assured his bandmates Banks, guitarist Mark Webber and keyboardist Candida Doyle that the recording process could be done quickly - in three weeks, lightspeed for a band that has infamously agonised over its latter records, like 1998's This Is Hardcore.
The 11 tracks that make up More are a combination of new and old songs written across Pulp's career. The late Mackey has a writing credit on both the sultry, existential Grown Ups originally demoed around This Is Hardcore, and the edgy disco Got to Have Love, written around "the turn of the millennium," as Cocker explains.
Maturation is a prevalent theme on More, delivered with age-appropriate insight.
"I was always told at school that I had an immature attitude. I just didn't see any point in growing up, really. It seemed like all the fun was had by people when they were younger," said Cocker.
"But, as I said on the back of the This Is Hardcore album, it's OK to grow up, as long as you don't grow old. And I still agree with that, I think. Growing old is losing interest in the world and deciding that you're not gonna change. You've done your bit and that's it. That doesn't interest me.
"You have to retain an interest in the world and that keeps you alive," he adds. "So, you grow up. And hopefully you live better, and you treat other people better. But you don't grow old."
Pulp has returned with a new album, their first in 24 years. Who could've predicted that?
Not even the band, it turns out.
The ambitious Britpop-and-then-some band emerged in the late-'70s in Sheffield, England, artistic outsiders with a penchant for the glam, grim, and in the case of Cocker, the gawky. Fame alluded them until the mid-'90s, and then it rushed in with Cool Britannia.
Their songs varied wildly from their contemporaries, like the recently reunited Blur and soon-to-be back together Oasis. Instead, Pulp's David Bowie-informed synth-pop arrived with humour, ambiguity and intellect - songs about sex and class consciousness that manage to be groovy, glib, awkward and amorous all at once.
Then, and in the decades since, Pulp has inspired devotion from loyal fans across generations. They've charmed those lucky enough to catch band members in their heyday before a kind of careerism led to a hiatus in 2002 - and those who saw them for the first time during reunion tours in 2011 and 2022.
With all that reputation on the line, it's reassuring that the band has decided to give its audience More, due for release on Friday.
There were a few catalysts for More.
The first: "We could get along with each other still," jokes drummer Nick Banks. "It wasn't too painful." The second: The band worked a new song into their recent reunion show run - The Hymn of the North, originally written for Simon Stephens' 2019 play Light Falls - and people seemed to like it.
The third and most significant: The band's bassist and core member Steve Mackey died in 2023.
"It made me realise that you don't have endless amounts of time," Cocker says. "You've still got an opportunity to create things, if you want to. Are you going to give it a go?"
And so, they did. Cocker assured his bandmates Banks, guitarist Mark Webber and keyboardist Candida Doyle that the recording process could be done quickly - in three weeks, lightspeed for a band that has infamously agonised over its latter records, like 1998's This Is Hardcore.
The 11 tracks that make up More are a combination of new and old songs written across Pulp's career. The late Mackey has a writing credit on both the sultry, existential Grown Ups originally demoed around This Is Hardcore, and the edgy disco Got to Have Love, written around "the turn of the millennium," as Cocker explains.
Maturation is a prevalent theme on More, delivered with age-appropriate insight.
"I was always told at school that I had an immature attitude. I just didn't see any point in growing up, really. It seemed like all the fun was had by people when they were younger," said Cocker.
"But, as I said on the back of the This Is Hardcore album, it's OK to grow up, as long as you don't grow old. And I still agree with that, I think. Growing old is losing interest in the world and deciding that you're not gonna change. You've done your bit and that's it. That doesn't interest me.
"You have to retain an interest in the world and that keeps you alive," he adds. "So, you grow up. And hopefully you live better, and you treat other people better. But you don't grow old."
Pulp has returned with a new album, their first in 24 years. Who could've predicted that?
Not even the band, it turns out.
The ambitious Britpop-and-then-some band emerged in the late-'70s in Sheffield, England, artistic outsiders with a penchant for the glam, grim, and in the case of Cocker, the gawky. Fame alluded them until the mid-'90s, and then it rushed in with Cool Britannia.
Their songs varied wildly from their contemporaries, like the recently reunited Blur and soon-to-be back together Oasis. Instead, Pulp's David Bowie-informed synth-pop arrived with humour, ambiguity and intellect - songs about sex and class consciousness that manage to be groovy, glib, awkward and amorous all at once.
Then, and in the decades since, Pulp has inspired devotion from loyal fans across generations. They've charmed those lucky enough to catch band members in their heyday before a kind of careerism led to a hiatus in 2002 - and those who saw them for the first time during reunion tours in 2011 and 2022.
With all that reputation on the line, it's reassuring that the band has decided to give its audience More, due for release on Friday.
There were a few catalysts for More.
The first: "We could get along with each other still," jokes drummer Nick Banks. "It wasn't too painful." The second: The band worked a new song into their recent reunion show run - The Hymn of the North, originally written for Simon Stephens' 2019 play Light Falls - and people seemed to like it.
The third and most significant: The band's bassist and core member Steve Mackey died in 2023.
"It made me realise that you don't have endless amounts of time," Cocker says. "You've still got an opportunity to create things, if you want to. Are you going to give it a go?"
And so, they did. Cocker assured his bandmates Banks, guitarist Mark Webber and keyboardist Candida Doyle that the recording process could be done quickly - in three weeks, lightspeed for a band that has infamously agonised over its latter records, like 1998's This Is Hardcore.
The 11 tracks that make up More are a combination of new and old songs written across Pulp's career. The late Mackey has a writing credit on both the sultry, existential Grown Ups originally demoed around This Is Hardcore, and the edgy disco Got to Have Love, written around "the turn of the millennium," as Cocker explains.
Maturation is a prevalent theme on More, delivered with age-appropriate insight.
"I was always told at school that I had an immature attitude. I just didn't see any point in growing up, really. It seemed like all the fun was had by people when they were younger," said Cocker.
"But, as I said on the back of the This Is Hardcore album, it's OK to grow up, as long as you don't grow old. And I still agree with that, I think. Growing old is losing interest in the world and deciding that you're not gonna change. You've done your bit and that's it. That doesn't interest me.
"You have to retain an interest in the world and that keeps you alive," he adds. "So, you grow up. And hopefully you live better, and you treat other people better. But you don't grow old."
Pulp has returned with a new album, their first in 24 years. Who could've predicted that?
Not even the band, it turns out.
The ambitious Britpop-and-then-some band emerged in the late-'70s in Sheffield, England, artistic outsiders with a penchant for the glam, grim, and in the case of Cocker, the gawky. Fame alluded them until the mid-'90s, and then it rushed in with Cool Britannia.
Their songs varied wildly from their contemporaries, like the recently reunited Blur and soon-to-be back together Oasis. Instead, Pulp's David Bowie-informed synth-pop arrived with humour, ambiguity and intellect - songs about sex and class consciousness that manage to be groovy, glib, awkward and amorous all at once.
Then, and in the decades since, Pulp has inspired devotion from loyal fans across generations. They've charmed those lucky enough to catch band members in their heyday before a kind of careerism led to a hiatus in 2002 - and those who saw them for the first time during reunion tours in 2011 and 2022.
With all that reputation on the line, it's reassuring that the band has decided to give its audience More, due for release on Friday.
There were a few catalysts for More.
The first: "We could get along with each other still," jokes drummer Nick Banks. "It wasn't too painful." The second: The band worked a new song into their recent reunion show run - The Hymn of the North, originally written for Simon Stephens' 2019 play Light Falls - and people seemed to like it.
The third and most significant: The band's bassist and core member Steve Mackey died in 2023.
"It made me realise that you don't have endless amounts of time," Cocker says. "You've still got an opportunity to create things, if you want to. Are you going to give it a go?"
And so, they did. Cocker assured his bandmates Banks, guitarist Mark Webber and keyboardist Candida Doyle that the recording process could be done quickly - in three weeks, lightspeed for a band that has infamously agonised over its latter records, like 1998's This Is Hardcore.
The 11 tracks that make up More are a combination of new and old songs written across Pulp's career. The late Mackey has a writing credit on both the sultry, existential Grown Ups originally demoed around This Is Hardcore, and the edgy disco Got to Have Love, written around "the turn of the millennium," as Cocker explains.
Maturation is a prevalent theme on More, delivered with age-appropriate insight.
"I was always told at school that I had an immature attitude. I just didn't see any point in growing up, really. It seemed like all the fun was had by people when they were younger," said Cocker.
"But, as I said on the back of the This Is Hardcore album, it's OK to grow up, as long as you don't grow old. And I still agree with that, I think. Growing old is losing interest in the world and deciding that you're not gonna change. You've done your bit and that's it. That doesn't interest me.
"You have to retain an interest in the world and that keeps you alive," he adds. "So, you grow up. And hopefully you live better, and you treat other people better. But you don't grow old."