LIVE REVIEW, HALLAMSHIRE HOTEL, SHEFFIELD, 22.09.1981—NMX fanzine n°21

After that it was a relief to get back to the comparative organisation of Pulp. Pulp look about five years older than when I saw them a year ago and they’re much better, great in fact. They remind me of Big In Japan (remember Big In Japan? If anyone’s got a copy of their EP they want to part with let me know), The Dole, I’m So Hollow, Cult Figures, Soft Boys and a million garage punk / pop bands with a touch of sixties weirdness in the hearts and guitars. The singer wins my nomination for any snappy dresser of the month award going, psychedelically tasteless in faded pink trousers, pukey green shirt, suede jacket, glasses and dorky non˗hairdo, and they deserve credit for trying to stir interest among usually apathetic audiences. After all, when a group stick something like a cross between a dunces cap and a multicolour cardboard mask over their heads one tends to sit up and ask why? Not to mention the dancers, two girls in black, complete with veils, who would undoubtedly be in the Human League now if they’d been down at the Crazy Daizy on the right night. The dramatic impression was spoiled somewhat when one of them fell off the stage and I never did discover why they were carrying toilet rolls (unless they were just nicking them from the pub), but it all contributed to the sense of occasion. It was enough to make me make a mental note to go out of my way to see Pulp again as soon as possible and make more detailed analysis of their music and socio˗political relevance.

NMX fanzine 22 [Nov.]

I first saw Pulp about a year ago when they livened up a depressing night at the Royal Hotel with their youthful energy and sense of fun. Still, I thought they might be one of those bands you see once and then never again, as they sink into the realms of the millions who never carry on in the face of apathy. Pulp did carry on, even though at the time they didn’t send me details about the group so I could write about them then. Pulp are still injecting colour and light into mundane, grey lives, as you'll realise if you read my review of their gig at the Hallamshire in Issue 21. Pulp are a pop group, so perhaps it’s wrong for me to write about them, except I still like pop music when it’s pure and honest, and anyway, ever since I started printing I’ve spent days on end listening to Radio 1, which tends to warp the brain a bit, and I find myself liking a lot of music which I find quite immoral.

Pulp are four persons, ages 15-18, who go to City School where they have to listen to teachers lecturing on the virtues of work over playing in bands. Perhaps they’ll take the band a bit more seriously after their session is broadcast on Radio 1. They gave John Peel a tape at his Sheffield Polytechnic roadshow date, and spent the next two weeks glued to the radio every night between ten and twelve in case he mentioned them. Two weeks later he did. And as if that wasn’t enough he then phoned them up to arrange a session, which was being recorded on 7th November in London.

«We used to practice round me Grandma’s using the coal scuttle for drums», says gangling lead singer/guitarist/songwriter Jarvis Cocker explaining the group’s humble origins. «The first song we learned to play were House Of The Rising Sun. Then we wrote one called Shakespeare Rock.»

Armed with their own songs they stunned the world first at Rotherham Arts Centre in July 1980, then progressed to other local venues and the highlight of their stage career so far, supporting Echo & The Bunnymen at the Limit. They recorded some songs at Ken Pattons Handsworth home studio with a view to releasing a single but decided they couldn’t afford to follow it through. In any case, they say the recording was ‘a bit smoothie’.

The thing which immediately sets Pulp apart from other bands if you go and see them live (a recommended experience) is their sense of EVENT. «Lots of groups just go and stand there and don’t do anything» bemoaned Jarvis in explaining why they do things like wearing cardboard cones over their heads and having girls come on stage and drape toilet rolls round them. Incidentally, one of the girls was quite upset about falling off the stage when they played at the Hallamshire, and even more upset when the incident was reported in NMX, but has now come to terms with fame and acclaim and is quite proud of it. «It’s something to look at... makes it a bit more interesting. One thing that sparked it off—I read in that Grey Matter magazine about Prior To Intercourse, that performance art thing... it were all supposed to be meaningful. We're taking the piss out of things being artistic and meaningful, because it weren’t».

Musically, Pulp churn out catchy, short songs with a definite bizarre touch. Their sound is ramshackle, twanging and clanging guitar, tinny synth, pounding drums. The songs fall into three categories—«Nice love songs, well they're not really nice... alright they are I suppose, I have to admit it, other ones with stories like waking up and finding you haven’t got the same face you went to bed with and nobody else notices, very existentialist and another about being trapped on a South Sea Island by this woman with voodoo powers... then there’s the social comment ones (much laughter). We haven’t got much social comment.» Which isn’t to say they don’t feel strongly about certain issues, just they can’t see the point in singing about them unless they can think of my anything original to say on the subjects.

Influeunces? Devo, Bunnymen and punk, though to educated ears they have more in common with the best music of the late sixties era, none of which they’ve been exposed to. Last words from the group: «I want to be a pop star but not like Phil Oakey». Can't say I blame them.

PULP—source unknown [ca. 1981]

Pulp sound deceptively cheap and throwaway but maybe they conceal a deeper meaning. Pulp have developed the art of fly-posting, they are a totally valid organisation. Can you cross the Beatles with a comic strip and The Fall? Well we just did, and came up with Pulp. Jarvis Cocker, the front-man, has a bizarre appearance/smell/taste/movement/walk. The gigs clean fun with all 8 members of Pulp cheering through good and bad. Rough, catchy, amateurish. Tongue in cheek love songs and quatermass experiment riffs.