Audioxide

It's been a long time, friends. Isn't it nice when a relic of the past returns? Recharged, refreshed, and raring to go. But enough about the long-awaited revival of Audioxide. Pulp arrive back on the scene with their first album in almost twenty-five years, and it was well worth the wait. Whilst Blur's 2015 comeback record The Magic Whip came and went without much noise, More is likely to last beyond its years. The songwriting is stellar and the production is pristine without being sterile. Indeed, this is exactly what a Pulp album should sound like in 2025. No tricks of nostalgia necessary.

'I was born to perform, it's a calling', Jarvis Cocker confidently concedes on opening track “Spike Island”. 'I exist to do this, shouting and pointing'. The charismatic frontman has lost none of the charm that undeniably helped Pulp stand out in a vast ocean of Britpop bands. In fact, with age comes profound wisdom and a refreshing degree of self-awareness. As if there was any doubt at all, Cocker remains of the contemporary music's great storytellers. He may be approaching his latter years, but the vocal performances here are full of life. There's plenty more sleaze left in the tank.

As a band, Pulp have rarely sounded better than on More. Retro-tinged indie bangers blend brilliantly with slower songs that reward the patience of its listeners. The opening three tracks are classic Pulp anthems, harking back to the glory days of Different Class, whereas “Background Noise” is an impassioned, heartfelt take on love, the type of which can only come with years of experience. Both sides of More are expertly executed, and there's rarely a dull moment. It ticks all the boxes without being formulaic: a comeback album with genuine evolution. What a trip! It's a joy to have the boys from Sheffield back.

I always feel some trepidation when a band I like pops up with a new album after a couple of decades hiatus. Are their savings running low? Am I about to hear a zombie-like shell of what they used to be? I needn’t have worried with More. It is indeed more Pulp, in the best sense, and it’s lovely to have them back.

The band thread the needle by managing to sound familiar while at the same time fresh and original. This has a lot to do with them leaning into the reality of the situation: they’re hitting their 60s, the world has changed, and they’ve changed. The music reflects that. If their old stuff was ratty Camden flat this new material is more detached house in Hackney - as it should be.

Tracks like “Grown Ups” and “Farmers Market” wrestle with the tradeoffs of pop culture success and bougie comforts, while the likes of “Background Noise” is as good a (lost) love song as I can remember listening to for a long while. They couldn’t have written these songs in the ‘90s; they hadn’t lived them yet. All too often aging bands sound like they’re clinging desperately to their youth. In More, Pulp are present, and the results are electric and beautiful.

The record sounds splendid. The arrangements have real panache and colour, while the lyrics are delivered with that same good humour and charming seediness that’s always made Cocker so brilliant. This is silver fox Pulp, and it’s marvelous.

It feels impossible to review a new album from a band that's been away so long without comparison. I've always been a big fan of 90s-era Pulp. As far as I can tell, it's the point that Jarvis found his Jarvis-isms: the dirty rascal suddenly whispering in your ear, or the tense, nervy portions of tracks where the listener suddenly feels like they're being directly addressed rather than just listening in. That married with the rest of the band setting the mood makes for some cracking tracks. I'm still on the fence about not sliding in a 10 when we reviewed Different Class.

So there's my paragraph building up the expectations, preparing to give a new release the benefit of the doubt if it needs it. But I don't think More does. Sure, the Jarvis-isms can be found all over this record, but it's an album that stands by itself. Instrumentals across the board on More are rich, lush affairs with strings, choirs and an overall weight to them. "Background Noise" exemplifies this as it flourishes into a big, quivering cacophony as Cocker's vocal reverberates out over four minutes while "My Sex", unsurprisingly, exercises that brooding, sultry element of the band's sound.

"Spike Island" is a rollicking opener which brings me back to the album fairly effortlessly, and follow-up, "Tina", feels like archetypal Pulp: catchy, energetic and melancholic. The themes of each track have grown up just as the band have too, avoiding the revival landmine of talking like teenagers when you're old enough to parent one.

Pulp appears to have done this right. Having tested the waters for a few years and tried new material, they've only now decided they have something new that's good enough to kick out another LP. Setting aside my effusions for a moment, it's not wall-to-wall hits here, and the latter third gets a bit fluffier, which means listeners might lose the thread of the tracklist in its dying moments, but there's nothing on More that isn't enjoyable music. I'm very happy to have the band back and I hope they'll stick around for… well, more.