Pulp Are a Cut Above at London’s O2 Arena: 7 Best Moments

In the run-up to the show, the crowd was warned: be on time and don’t miss out. The concert, split into two sections with an intermission, and approaching three hours, was a sprawling journey through Pulp’s entire discography spanning almost 40 years. Punters might have been pulled out of London’s sunny beer gardens earlier than planned, but every second proved unmissable.

When “Spike Island” entered the band’s setlists in September 2024, a new album — their first since 2001 — felt like a real possibility. The song now opens their new LP More, and is a weighty start to the show: booming synths and frontman Cocker reckoning and reflecting with his role as a performer on a stage. The slinky “Grown Ups,” also from the new album, was boosted by the 10-piece string section, the Elysian Collective.

Midway through the first act, Cocker reflected on the fact that More had given the band their first No. 1 LP in 27 years since 1998’s This is Hardcore. It was a testament, he said, to the fans’ dedication since their formation in 1978 and through their lengthy hiatus between 2001 and 2023 (save for a brief run of shows in 2011). The quality of the new album, however, is a victory all their own.

Cocker might not be the stereotypical rock band frontman — bookish, kitted in corduroy suits and genuinely funny — but he connects with audiences instantly. That comes from the quality of his lyrics, the scenes he sketches and the line he toes between irony and sentimentality. He dances and writhes much like David Byrne, unsure where his limbs and hand gestures might take him next. It’s a rare rock concert to watch and listen carefully, for each line — and move — matters immensely.

Depending on who you ask, Britpop had many deaths and rebirths, but 1998’s This is Hardcore arrived at the tail-end after a whirlwind period of commercial and critical success. Like his contemporaries, Jarvis Cocker had grown weary of fame’s intensity, and the comedown was kicking in. The LP’s title track is grand and indulgent, but is a reminder of how hollow fame can be, and closes with Cocker asking, “What exactly do you do for an encore?” Its pomposity was brilliantly captured in this glitzy performance.

After a brief intermission — a welcome addition to gigs of this size, perhaps — the core band of Cocker, Banks, Doyle and Webber asked the crowd to imagine they were “in a living room somewhere” for “Something Changed,” a plaintive love song. On record the production is layered and dense, but here it was stripped-back and played acoustically, exposing the song to its core. One of their best.

Should there ever be a referendum for a new English national anthem, “Common People” would be a front-runner (move over, “Mr Brightside”). Released in 1995, Cocker’s magnum opus forensically dissects the British class system and packages it up into a tidy, electrifying pop song. Few artists from these shores have captured the mood of a nation so succinctly ever since.