Twelve years is a long time to wait for new material, but what a worthwhile wait it is. After reforming in 2023 and playing some magnificent shows across the globe, Pulp returned to the studio. The band behind all-time greats like Common People and hidden gems such as The Professional are back. Contemporary material from legendary groups, those who have already left their cultural mark and are re-treading it for a new generation, walk a risk-laden line. What if it does not stand up to the established classics? This is the risk Pulp runs, but there is a welcome acceptance of this gamble. Blur roared through well with The Ballad of Darren. Reflection is one pursuit, but so too is growth. Those broader themes which feature on His ‘n’ Hers and This is Hardcore didn’t go anywhere, they were dormant comments waiting to be revisited. A fear of missing out appears on Spike Island, the lead single for their hotly anticipated album, More.
A song which picks up on a legend and runs with it, as The Stone Roses tried at the titular show. Frontman Jarvis Cocker explores the fear of missing out, the second-hand thrills from friends who were there in the moment. Those glory days are not all they are cracked up to be. Spike Island points it out, toeing the line between those classic sounds and the fresh, inevitable changes which come from a lengthy break. Those changes are more for Cocker’s voice, which will be no surprise to those who wore the grooves of Jarv Is, but it marks a nice contrast to the youthful thrills of their earlier works. Spike Island is not a reflection on the day or the regret of missing out, but the fight against an indifferent world. The group push themselves to the very limit, and the result is outstanding. Let the excitement settle, the call to come alive when the worldwide mood is perhaps lower than usual echoes through.
Roaringly great guitar work from Mark Webber, percussion thrills from Nick Banks and some fine work indeed from Candida Doyle. Pulp as a core unit comes to life once more without missing a step, and the additional musicians give the song that new kick, the fresh sound which is necessary when long-standing artists return. Spike Island has all the wonderful hang-ups expected of Cocker’s worldview, the suspicion at those who want a crowd to “come alive” through command rather than feeling. Command the feeling as Cocker does, with some tricky wordplay and lyrically inspired pieces of breaking from conformity, and the result is a change in worldview. The group sounds informed by the tricky thrills of their live shows, with Pulp making good on the throwaway line Cocker kept repeating. “I was born to perform, I exist to do this,” proves to be an honest reflection but also a belief held by those who should perhaps find other employment, as the DJ from The Stones’ concert should.
Is this the light of a new day dawning? No, it is Pulp continuing a very high standard they set decades ago and established once more with their live shows. Spike Island is an earth-shattering piece of work, a song which highlights the trust we must have in ourselves to chart our own course. We can only feed off the memories and experiences of others for so long. Spike Island is a call to find your route, to stop fighting for a spot at a show tipped in future as life changing. We sometimes obsess over moments which are deemed revolutionary or must-listen, but the beauty of individuality is highlighted on Spike Island. A perfect start which blurs the expected commentaries Pulp were always so brilliant at, the breathless suggestiveness of Cocker, and a new line through for fans who are experiencing contemporary Pulp songs for the first time in their lives. Rarely is an artist able to blend the old tones with new topics; Pulp makes it sound ridiculously easy.
