Aren’t those American fans treated well? An abundance of deep cuts and powerhouse performances from Pulp were not enough to satiate the US of A. No. They got the new songs too. How heartbroken we must make ourselves feel after not getting those gems on the first leg of the UK tour. We live in a state of limbo as Pulp fans, this assumption of new work on the way but, at the time of writing (November 13), no suggestion of new material to come. All this could change in a matter of moments. We could be ambushed by a throwaway tweet from Nick Banks confirming what we all, deep down, believe is underway. My Sex is a new Pulp song. It is not the only new track of Jarvis Cocker and company to come from this tour. Connect the dots.
My Sex is a wonderful feature, that fine line between seedy sexuality and heavyset humour which comes from being an outsider to the pop version of intimacy. We look back to Toronto, then, for what is the only live performance of My Sex. The only evidence so far of this exploration of what it means to be in touch with your sexuality, to be aware of preference and particulars. It has the fanciful spoken word pop of a We Love Life track but the tenderness of a This is Hardcore B-Side. A rip from the classic days but a modern twist of the arm, a stunning experience of Cocker as a lyricist with his eye on the future and his heart in the past. Whatever this version provides may not survive. Changes in the studio can happen.
But right now it is hard to think of much better for My Sex than the high-pitched strings, isolated until Cocker starts panting into the microphone, whispering those desires to ask a question. Not daring to ask, just building the courage to mention it. And then it ends. Powerful stuff on My Sex comes more from the alluded-to question, the chance for discovery and change at a pivotal moment. Those moments are not a burst of inspiration but often a slow burn from a chance encounter, where the influence and impact are not felt until months down the line. It happens, and My Sex just happens to capture this feeling, the euphoric and often fearful, mesmerising scope of realising something so profound from an innocuous thought. Such is the core of a Pulp song. The revolution happens outside the heart and soon invades.
Another in an exciting series of events for Pulp fans, who can be in no doubt about further new material. Who knows what else is to happen? It is a blisteringly new year, a cold and delicate one with the potential for some real surprise. Much to be excited about with or without the suggestion of new Pulp material. My Sex is, whatever the inevitability of these recordings is, an example of a long-running theme within the work Cocker has written his whole career. It stuck with him for his solo ventures and his recent efforts on Beyond the Pale. What it all boils down to is capturing the fundamentals, the truth and beauty that catapulted the band and Cocker as a lyricist to those top spots and memorable enchantments. My Sex has all that in its live form, who knows what it’ll sound like from the studio?
