Gift Records feels like a brief but rewarding interlude for Pulp. Listeners would do well to hunt down a copy of Intro: The Gift Recordings. It’s not exactly hard when you can hammer those words into a search engine like a monkey at a typewriter. Could that monkey write the works of William Shakespeare? Better yet, could it rattle off O.U. (Gone, Gone), a quality Pulp single released during the band’s brief time on the Gift Records label. They left for Island Records soon after; the rest is history. What this single offers is not a chart success but a future deep cut, one which has been dusted off and delivered well by the band on their Encore and More tours. Babies may have been passed over as the band’s first single under Warp Records; the less said about that, the better, but O.U. (Gone, Gone) captures an excitement reflecting the mood in the Pulp camp at the time.
Breaking from Fire Records was a blessing, and though their material with their first label is strong, it’s very different to the sound which would bring them fame and fortune. O.U. (Gone, Gone) feels, like Separations, to be a middle ground of that sound. Still tinged with an electro, euro-pop blur, but fighting through this is a stronger writing style. Jarvis Cocker clears out the billowing smoke and greyed-out skies of Sheffield and instead focuses on the kitchen sink dramatics. A will they, won’t they piece of work which is expanded brilliantly because the protagonist, even if they want to, is lackadaisical. Irrespective of laziness in the face of love, O.U. (Gone, Gone) is one of the few Pulp songs where danceable beats and a desire for pure fun is the aim. It works brilliantly, too. That instrumental build, the growing moans and “moam” spots in the early moments are essential.
They’re a staple of Pulp’s sound. She’s a Lady and I Spy would use them to varying extents after O.U. (Gone, Gone). It’s an interjector, that humming thought process where a person has to figure out what to do with themselves. Had it been released around their peak, it would have been a hit. That’s just whataboutism, though, and we can never truly know what the impact of the song would have had it been released at a different point. It deserves more ears than streaming service numbers would suggest, though it doesn’t really matter. What does matter is the instrumental thrill found within, Candida Doyle and Russell Senior coming off best of all here. But those lyrics, too. Vicious, essential pieces of Pulp’s core values as a band can be heard here. That will they, won’t they tone would often rely on the latter, rather than the former.
But here is a song where hopes of a brighter future are not acted upon. Not because it could spell a new dawn or danger for the protagonist, but to change is to act, and to act is to move. O.U. (Gone, Gone) is a magnificent song. A career-best effort from the band in their drifting second decade together. Not just an emotional powerhouse but a brilliantly crafted song from start to finish. The triumph in those final moments is as open-ended as the chance for reconciliation heard in the lead-up to the chorus. A punchy song where the feel-good instrumentals mask a heartbreaker of a story. Pulp at their very best, then. It’s what they managed to do with the likes of Common People, Party Hard, and Acrylic Afternoons. An early ride on an all-time great sound that the band, decades later, are still using. A thrill ride of a release, one where the message is still thriving.
