Pulp - Jarvis Cocker Goes Hardcore

Pulp's sound doesn't lend itself to American Pop sensibilities, which is probably why this Brit band is still woefully unknown here in these parts. Maybe you heard about the one-time antics of their lead singer, Jarvis Cocker, when he made a blip on the pop culture screen bum rushing the stage on which the late Michael Jackson was performing, and proceeded to moon the audience. Aside from that act of derring-do, Pulp receded into the ether and unfortunately so did their music.

"This is Hardcore" (1998) can be plodding and leaden, and rightly so since it details Jarvis Cocker's pre-midlife crisis ruminations. But aging like a fine wine in my CD carousel for more than years now, I'm still mining plenty of satisfaction from repeated listens. As always, the music and lyrics both provided by Jarvis Cocker, et al. teeter a fine line between bombastic sincerity and pure tongue-in-cheek come-on. In the end, you never feel taken for a ride as much as you've been on one. That's because the band is shrewd enough to pair the music and lyrics like polar counterparts. Weighty subjects, rife with irony and Cocker's trademark wit are complemented and leavened by jangly guitars ("Party Hard"), or sweeping orchestral strings ("Sylvia", "Seductive Barry"). The approach is surprisingly effective, and the end result is a unique manifesto on the ambiguities of life. In Pulp's hands, life becomes a weary affair -- sad, thrilling, funny, frustrating and meaningless all at the same time.

There's more than a whiff of desperation wafting through "Hardcore", as when Cocker wryly details his mundane existence and midlife panic attacks on "The Fear". It's heavy stuff, right down to the lumbering arrangement that accompanies it, but it's never boring. On the wonderful "Help the Aged", Cocker tells us to "help the aged/one time they were just like you/drinking, smoking cigs and sniffing glue". You could almost crack up at the lines if it weren't for the urgent falsetto Cocker repeats at the bridge:"funny how it all falls away". Then you're left with that nervous smile - unsure whether to reflect seriously or leave well enough alone and just rock out to the crack-and-fuzz guitar work. Much of "Hardcore" is that way.

Feeling anomie? Can't quite put your pulse on what's eating at you? Put on "This is Hardcore" and let Jarvis and Co. guide you if not to the answer, then at least a catharsis.