Britpop | Pulp: The beauty of missed opportunities

When I was in my mid-20s, I hoped all my friends would make their way. Behind this noble wish lay a not-so-selfless thought: "If they can do it, I can do it too."

Of course, life doesn't work that way. We fall in love with the wrong people and make idiotic decisions that lead straight to a dead end. Not everyone turns around afterward. Then, in our mid-40s, we hit rock bottom. You might call it a "midlife crisis," but it's really just the feeling "I imagined my life would be different."

Jarvis Cocker has nothing to fear in this regard. He's always been disillusioned. His life has been a crisis from the very beginning. His German mother forced him into Bavarian lederhosen as a child – and that in the English industrial city of Sheffield. Since I know that, no one needs to tell me anymore that he had a difficult childhood.

And things didn't get any better after that. As a teenager, he founded the band Pulp in 1978. Sixteen years of insignificance followed. It wasn't until 1994, during the Britpop hype, that he finally made his breakthrough. Psychologically speaking, it was too late – he was never destined to become a playboy. Instead, Jarvis Cocker used his fame to let out all the pain that had accumulated over the decades on "Different Class" (1995) and "This Is Hardcore" (1998). After that, he seemed to be doing better. "We Love Life" (2001), the last Pulp album for the time being, was downright idyllic. Cocker seemed to be more or less at peace with himself.

The subsequent solo and project albums confirmed this impression. Jarvis Cocker did whatever he felt like doing, for example, faithfully re-singing French chansons. "It's great that you're having fun," we Pulp fans of the 90s secretly thought, "but couldn't the songs be a bit more exciting?"

Our wish was granted. "More" sounds like long-lost recordings from the "Different Class" era (and some of the tracks are actually based on demos from long-gone Pulp days). It has everything that made the band great: stirring melodies in a minor key, a tense production (restrained in the verses, expansive in the choruses), and of course, Jarvis Cocker's vocals, which combine what normally cannot be combined: coolness and pain. Even back then, no one suffered more serenely.

Now he is 61, and the crisis has hit him again. At his age, you sometimes think about how time is running out – "it's nearly sunset and we haven't had lunch yet" – and how you could have made more of your life. "Grown ups" is one of the bitterest songs ever written about growing up. Cocker doesn't want to believe that an acquaintance moved near the motorway 'cause it was good for commuting". The great art of his lyrics has always been in such images. But his lines achieve their full effect through the way he sings and pines, or sometimes just speaks and breathes them.

This, of course, also applies to "Tina," the story of a relationship that only exists in the mind. A familiar theme, one that was already present in "Disco 2000." Jarvis Cocker's songs are full of missed opportunities. Just like in real life. Not listening to this album would be another.

Pulp: More (Rough Trade)