Pulp – ‘More’ review: older wiser mis-shapes are still a different class

Jun 5, 2025 - 09:14

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Pulp – ‘More’ review: older wiser mis-shapes are still a different class

Pulp, 2025. Credit: Tom Jackson

“I was born to perform, it’s a calling,” vows Jarvis Cocker on Pulp‘s comeback single and first new material in 12 years, ‘Spike Island’. Soon, though, he’s reducing his standing as one of the most iconic frontmen of the last 30 years, recognisable by mere silhouette, to simply “shouting and pointing”. It’s that pure glam bravado anchored by a wry shrug of Sheffield humility that always set the band apart.

That, and the edge of having been around a bit. The band were already a decade into their career and Cocker in his thirties, when fourth album ‘His N’ Hers’ caught them a sniff of success. Shortly after, ‘Different Class’ earned them a spot at the top table for the summer of Britpop in 1995, sealing their place as icons of British music.

Here we are three decades later with ‘More’, Pulp’s first album in 24 years and the first since the death of bassist Steve Mackey. “I am not ageing – no, I am just ripening,” Cocker asserts on the strutting ‘Grown Ups’, travel sick from his rocket ship from youth to now, having moved from Camden to Hackney and “stressing about wrinkles instead of acne” but set on “one final blaze of glory”. From a breathy sprechgesang moment to that classic “Are you suuure?”, it’s knowingly oh-so-Pulp, but just with a few more trips around the sun under its belt.

The indie disco is swapped for a more wholesome Sunday afternoon romance on the Scott Walker-indebted ‘Farmers Market’, while the slinky and kinky ‘My Sex’ sees Cocker’s classic androgynous libido laid out with the cringe-free confidence of a lover who’s really got to know themselves: “I haven’t got an agenda, I haven’t even got a gender”.

And it wouldn’t be a pure Pulp record if it wasn’t a wall-to-wall wonky-pop masterclass. ‘Spike Island’ would have been a peak in their Glasto ‘95 set, ‘Got To Have Love’ is the jazz hands sibling of ‘F.E.E.L.I.N.G.C.A.L.L.E.D.L.O.V.E’, ‘Tina’ shines with that kitchen-sink longing set to a Burt Bacharach romp, and ‘Slow Jam’ is a squelchy sex-funk gem that would fit into the indie-noir of ‘This Is Hardcore’. You won’t find a dry eye for ‘Background Noise’ with its swooning ‘Glory Days’ encore moment feel, nor for album highlight ‘Hymn Of The North’ with its ode to the Steel City and never forgetting where you come from. ‘More’, it certainly is.

Drenched in synths and strings and aided by producer James Ford’s knack for making the music feel alive and omnipresent, ‘More’ is everything you’d want a Pulp album to be, made richer from some lived experience. Just as Blur did with ‘The Ballad Of Darren’ and Suede have managed on their immaculate run of post-reunion albums, Pulp have retained their original spirit and flair into a statement of middle age without feeling any less vital. As Cocker pines on the cinematic closer ‘A Sunset’, all things end, so just make the most of the time you have. It’s strangely beautiful, now they’re all fully grown.