Tom Dunne: Pulp still deserve the love of the Common People

Jarvis Cocker and Pulp have a new album on the way. Picture: Jonathan Wood/Getty Images.
In 2022 when Norwich City FC signed a then 19-year-old Greek winger Christos Tzolis from Greek Super League side PAOK he didn’t take long to settle in. In fact, it took him just 12 minutes to score on his debut against Bournemouth.
The local radio commentator, in a moment of inspiration, marked this milestone by saying, “He came from Greece and that’s his first for Norwich.” I don’t know how many people high-fived each other on hearing this, but those who did were Pulp fans.
If you missed it, the quote is a play on Pulp’s epic Common People, a cautionary tale of a rich young lady and a poor student. They meet each other at St Martin’s College and love is soon in the air.
The song starts with “She came from Greece and had a thirst for knowledge”, and goes on to explain how, apart from a first-class education this particular student wants a bit extra. Freed temporarily from parental wealth she wants to live like “Common People” do.
Over the course of a masterclass in Northern wit, involving trips to the supermarket and “rum and Coca-Cola” Jarvis Cocker explains that such a thing isn’t really possible. You can’t experience the full horror of watching your life’s dreams “fade out of view” as long as you can call your daddy to make it stop.
The football commentary reminded me of how I missed such god-like genius. So, news last week that Pulp are about to release their first album in 24 years was manna from heaven. And with Katy Perry trying to ruin my Star Trek obsession I needed all the cheering up I could get.
Pulp were an outlier in the Britpop years. They gave it depth and class. You can make a case quite easily that they were no part of it, but they were contemporaries, vying for radio play with Blur et al, and brought a dry wit that was utterly, deliciously British. Much as they all might deny it, there was something in the air.
Pulp stumbled into the full Britpop spotlight in 1995. That was the year of Sleeper, Echobelly, Elastika, Supergrass and the actual Blur vs Oasis debate. It was also just two years after Pulp had recorded their second John Peel session, ending one of the longest ever gaps between sessions.
For the Pulp story is nothing if not epic. Their first Peel session, recorded after Jarvis had pushed a demo into the hands of the great man himself dated back to 1981. Peel had called Cocker’s mum to tell them to come to London. It appeared about to “all go off” and then it didn’t.
Most bands would have quit. Cocker settled into a life on the dole and dreams of the big time. He couldn’t give up the dream, but equally they couldn’t get a second Peel session and the albums It in 1983, and Freaks in 1987, made little progress.
And then Cocker fell out of a window. He had been trying to impress a girl with a trick he had sometimes done of hanging out on a ledge. But this time he lost his grasp and fell agonisingly to the pavement. He did major damage, was hospitalised, and could have died.

In hospital he listened over and over to the one cassette he had with him. It was a Barry White album. He became besotted by it and European disco in general. What he wondered would you get if combined that energy with a northern English droll take on life?
The answer was commercial success and two of the best albums - His ‘n’ Hers, and Different Class - of the entire decade. But the moment of true arrival was Glastonbury 1995. Pulp were only added to the bill after John Squire broke his collarbone while cycling and the Stone Roses had had to pull out.
Stepping onstage Cocker seemed an unlikely figure for a rock god. Tall, geeky and wearing glasses, he didn’t look likely to give Liam Gallagher much of a run for his money. But somehow as he arrived onto the Pyramid Stage he suddenly seemed born to it.
Sometimes it takes 100,000 studying your every move to reveal your true magnetic power. Cocker owned the stage that day, and when 100,000 people sang along to Common People it confirmed their Glastonbury as one of the greatest ever, with its own superstar.
Funny old game, music, as sports commentators might say. That and “Form is temporary, but Different Class is permanent.”