Pulp had their stance as an outsider looking in locked in from their first album. They made it the whole point of Freaks, their second album and a massive step in the right direction. It was a move away from the jangle pop horrors which suffocated Jarvis Cocker with wannabe Morrisey tones. Enjoyable but not quite the dark and ruminating sound found on Freaks, which features Russell Senior and Candida Doyle. Here is where some of the earliest and best Pulp songs are found. It may have been a composite of jangle elements and the hint of something darker, buried beneath its acoustic flurries, but the key has and always is the lyrics from Cocker. On Freaks he departs from the usual loved-up charms of a twee life and instead relays his immediate surroundings. Sheffield and those northern towns were not lighthouse-filled love affairs, but horror shows as Fairground reveals.
Freaks is difficult to break into. Opening with a chilling performance from ringmaster Senior on Fairground is no light introduction. Broody bass riffs like a Tom Selleck action programme linger on the backdrop. Having your lead singer absent from the first track of your risky sophomore album is a bold move, and for Freaks, it pays off. Cocker is heard laughing away in the background before launching into I Want You. A claustrophobic song basing itself on the possession of another. Classic Cocker. Languid and effective, with all the spoken-word charms expected of Pulp over the decade to follow. What a treat it makes for. Part of the joy in this is finding the steely reserves of Sheffield and not shying away from the colloquial aspects of living alone in the big city, on the dole and chipping away at a potentially glorious career.
This is the stuff which stirs the best of Pulp’s work. The Never-Ending Story and They Suffocate at Night linger on the album’s back end as some of their best songs. Masters of the Universe sticks out like a sore thumb. No reference to He-Man but a creeping, deep octave howl promising fulfilment from mistresses. Little fanfare greets Freaks even now the band can sell out arenas across the globe. It is likely because of the darker, avant-garde structure. There is no optimism or light to find in Master of the Universe, as fun and repetitive as it is there is no joy within. For those who were growing up with Common People and all the hits, it may be tricky diving into Freaks, for it does sound like unusual individuals have broken into a recording studio and taped over The Fall.
Jagged instrumentals on Life Must Be So Wonderful open with a percussion slot lifted from David Bowie’s Five Years. They make good on those slight edges of glam rock with a low tone and slow, stripped-back piece. There is a faux macabre flavour rushing through the best bits of Freaks. A dire situation, the horrors of living all unveiled but without too much belief in them. Pulp were still finding their footing in what they were standing against. Rocking back and forth as they do on Freaks leads to some truly awful bits, like Anorexic Beauty. The preceding There’s No Emotion does not help. Pulp reaches for the bleak, unremitting consequences of an uncaring and cold world but even they do not sound convinced by it. There is the light of a new day dawning, and it comes in an essential back end of Freaks. The quality starts there and does not stop.
