Hunt down the compilation Scared to Get Happy, and you can still find this Pulp rarity. Everybody’s Problem is to the Jarvis Cocker-fronted band what Anthology Vol. 1 is to The Beatles. A chance to hear the earliest years of an iconic band, though with that comes an addendum. This is not Pulp at their best. It is the group in a period which would affect It, a desire to match up to the jangle pop of the times. It’s a rough listen, to say the least. But it is a moment of interest for dedicated listeners wanting a move away from the Europop tones and counterculture thrills. Pulp would work best of all when their music spoke to those who were engaging in a cultural rebellion, the mis-shapes and misfits as they continue to call them. Everybody’s Problem is the band at their most friendly, a sound which makes them fodder for the mainstream should it be a success. Thankfully, it wasn’t to be.
Everybody’s Problem would slip from most people’s memory, and it’s only through digging deeper into the band’s discography that you can find efforts like this. Their second-ever single is sandwiched between Fantastic Something and Grab Grab The Haddock. You can also find Everybody’s Problem on the Dreams to Fill the Vacuum compilation, preceding Intruder in the Dust by Bass Tone Trap. This is the fate Pulp faced in their early years. They could have been compilation fodder had they stayed the course of jangle pop jolliness. They ditched it but got an album’s worth of material out of it with It. It has all the hallmarks of a Cocker classic, just unrefined and all too soppy. Defences thrown aside to love and risk, it’s an inevitability of his songwriting. But here, paired with the warbling voice, it’s quite repugnant. A flimsy piece of work with a heart to it all the same.
Those hallmarks of what was to come are not a sign of quality at the time. Everybody’s Problem is a strange and unrefined piece of work. Brass bits here, the tropes of modern pop music there. The latter makes more sense, with Cocker always wanting to be a pop star. He would forge his way through with sharper writing and, ironically, writing the opposite of what pop stars were. Everybody’s Problem can’t be cast aside as young dreams of stardom though, it does have some brilliant lyrical moments to it, as heavy-handed as they may be. Their title implies it’s a problem for everyone to relate to, and it’s in the obviousness, or at least the expectation, that Everybody’s Problem falls apart. When you expect and assume a feeling from the audience, you write yourself into a corner.
At the very least, you write in words like “fey” and suggest it’s a “borrowed tongue” at work. That latter line is great, and though it’s rough around the edges, Everybody’s Problem stands tall as an early example of Cocker’s writing. It’s a shame about his singing, which would be a difficult listen on those early Pulp singles. He ditched the Morrissey impersonation soon after and found a voice of his own. That, paired with slight improvements to the writing, are what makes the difference for Pulp as they transitioned from compilation fodder and John Peel sessions to top of the charts. A song which is more of interest to those wanting to learn more about Pulp’s history. A passing listener may want to avert their eyes and plug their ears, but there’s still some value in this one.
