Decades on from their debut and it is reassuring to see Pulp can offer original comments through recognisable themes. Snobbishness may come from these genre explorations, but listeners who grow accustomed to lyrical depths and instrumental change will grow tired of the traditional sound far quicker than most. Whatever disparaging comment there may be to throw at the so-called mainstream guitar rock of the times, no good can come from it. Some are happy with the same sound, the similarities from album to album a strength, rather than a repetitive weakness. What a thrill it was to hear Tina, then, the third single from More. It’s not just different to the rest of the band’s discography, but to the lead single, Spike Island. Both follow a similar suggestion of imagination being dangerously close to idealism, but they present such a tone in brilliantly different ways. The party-like atmosphere of Spike Island is swapped out for a string-heavy, lustful showcase on Tina.
Both are live show essentials, but important about that placement is the vast difference between the two songs. That fundamental Pulp charm can be found littered throughout Tina. Obvious moments like the charity shop bin bags and the smell of Digestive biscuits, those microscopic details of working-class life, but also in the abstract form. The “what if?” question looms over the best of Pulp’s songs. Tina has a growing fascination with a side of life which is slowly but surely being lost. We’re no longer noticing things in the world around us, be it reading on the train or those rainbow gloves and matching socks. It’s an emotional overhaul which frontman Jarvis Cocker gets right with his lyrics here. But those moments are only as strong as the instrumentals backing it. The Elysian Collective are on hand for that overhaul, and it’s a difference maker when it comes to separating Tina from the other loved-up and lost romances in Pulp’s discography.
Lyrics punctuated with string sections are all too easy to piece together. Everyone appears to be doing it, but few are bringing it around in the right way. Tina is a great example of how it can be used with a slower tempo. Place it in its album context, and it’s a slower counterpoint for Spike Island. Pair Tina with the song to follow, Grown Ups, and it’s a tale of wants and realities blurring into one. It’s a chance to hear mistakes, be it avoiding an interaction or moving to a motorway in the service of a temporary role. Tina is that unmistakable “what if” and the regret which comes through that is countered with some exceptional instrumental work. It’s Pulp in their classy, best form. Crucial to the ever-evolving structure of their songs though, is the soft positivity at the heart of Tina.
Context gained from the rest of the album shares that the “what if” is just that, a moment which never happened. The rest of the album is dedicated to what did happen, the highs and lows, everything in between. Crucial to Tina is the feeling of reminiscence for memories which never happened. Chasing feelings which did occur for experiences which never happened. It’s a unique look at love in music and another fine moment in Pulp’s discography. Different to the hopefulness of Different Class and the hopelessness of This is Hardcore. These experiences on More are in the past, and reflection takes hold in all the right ways. Tina is a comfort with made-up memories, a contrast to the unfulfilled desires after getting what you want, heard earlier in their discography.
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