Pulp, The O2, London: A start-to-finish masterclass in performance

Despite this being the first run to properly showcase ‘More’, already the record’s tracks - especially early cut ‘Grown Ups’ - feel entirely at home alongside the band’s back catalogue, slotting into tonight’s setlist as if they’ve long been there. And it’s evident that being able to play new material is bringing them real joy: at one point, Jarvis proudly holds up the trophy given to them by the Official Charts earlier today; earnestly grateful, he marvels at the fact Pulp have bagged their first Number One album in 27 years.

He’s on characteristically playful form, too, improvising a pantomime-style call and response when he realises he’s skipped a song on the setlist (“It’s not because I’m getting old, is it?” “No!”) and going full method during the fraught intro of ‘This Is Hardcore’, taking a nip from a hipflask as the stage is transformed into a chandelier-lit, leather armchair-clad gentleman’s club.

Crucially, there’s no sense of this being an imitative nostalgia trip; here, Pulp channel their signature vigor while being unafraid to acknowledge the adjustments that have had to be made in the quarter of a century since their last release. The inclusion of an interval, for example, is perfectly judged, allowing both band and audience to refresh themselves while neatly providing an opportunity for our AI companion to return (it - she? - hosts a Clapometer-style audience vote between ‘Seconds’ or ‘Party Hard’; the latter emerges victorious). Elsewhere, Jarvis admits that he can no longer reach the requisite high note for ‘Help The Aged’, and gamely requests the crowd help fill in the blanks with the help of some karaoke-esque, on-screen lyric prompts.

Having paid apt dues to ‘More’, the show’s post-interval second act comprises mostly older fan favourites, save from this year’s disco-spangled banger ‘Got To Have Love’ - which, on this evidence, is an easy entrant into that same canon. Here, there’s also a brilliantly bizarre pendulum swing between the intimate and outlandish: a stunningly tender, acoustic rendition of ‘Something Changed’ is delivered by the band’s four remaining original members, sitting before a red theatre curtain as if in an ad-hoc living room; then, for immediate follow-up ‘The Fear’, Jarvis stands on stage flanked by 20 foot car wash inflatables, their trembling shadows accidentally emulating his famously angular, limb-heavy dancing.

And then we’re on the home straight: ‘Do You Remember The First Time?’; ‘Mis-Shapes’; ‘Got To Have Love’; ‘Babies’; ‘Common People’ - a stacked five-song sprint finish that surely must stand near-unparalleled in setlist runs, perfectly epitomising the marriage of party and poignance that makes Pulp still so beloved, 30 years on from their breakthrough.

As a flurry of orange confetti settles over the crowd and people begin shuffling towards the exits, satisfied the extravaganza is over, we suddenly hear a disembodied voice: ‘do you want more?’. A rhetorical question, if there ever was one. From behind the red curtain step the whole ensemble, who assemble in a huddle to send us gently on our way, together, with Richard Hawley co-write and ‘More’ closer ‘A Sunset’ - a mediation on the inevitability of time moving forwards, and the infinite beauty of its passage.

Doubtless, this is one of the shows of the year, a shining example of how to grow old(er) not necessarily gracefully, but gloriously.

Tags: Pulp, Reviews, Live Reviews