Track of the Week: Pulp: The Fear (1998)

What would you do if you finally got everything you ever wanted, and it turned out to be a big disappointment? Before 1994, Jarvis Cocker looked like any other under-rated indie hero whose dreams of pop stardom were never going to be fulfilled. Then, suddenly, the rise of Britpop made Pulp into huge stars - ironic, since their intelligent, witty music stood at odds with the blatant lad-ism of the movement. 'Different Class' and especially 'Common People' brought the band fame and fortune, but also intrusive tabloid journalists, cocaine, depression and the departure of long term guitarist Russell Senior. All of this was obviously weighing heavily on Jarvis Cocker's mind as he wrote the songs that would make up the band's next album, 'This Is Hardcore'. As far as commercial suicides go, this wasn't a bad effort - the album wreaks of depression and paranoia, disillusion and disappointment, only to grind to an anticlimactic end itself. The fans expecting more of the bright poppiness of 'Different Class' were bitterly disappointed, and Pulp's commercial reputation never recovered. Which is a shame, because 'This Is Hardcore', despite copping out somewhat at the end, is a good album. It opens with 'The Fear', which is one of my favourite Pulp tracks. The song is a statement of intent for the whole album. It opens with a mournful, two-note drone before Cocker warns us that 'This is the sound of someone losing the plot / Of making out that they're OK when they're not / You're going to like it... but not a lot'. The soaring chorus - a rallying cry for the depressed - states 'Here comes the fear again', 'again' being the pertinent word - this feeling is nothing new, just a low-point on the endless cycle of depression. The next verse outlines the difference between 'Different Class' and it's harrowing follow up - 'Common People' acknowledges the despair and hopelessness of being poor, the upbeat song itself acts as an escape - a soundtrack to 'dance, drink and screw / Because there's nothing else to do'. 'The Fear' is there to soundtrack the times 'When you're sad, when you're lonely / And it all turns out wrong'. Whilst 'Common People' hid despair behind an upbeat exterior, 'The Fear' is a black hole of depression - Cocker is 'No longer searching for beauty and love / Just some kind of life with the edges taken off.' In the second chorus, any hope of release or happiness is crushed as Cocker briefly toys with the possibility that he will 'Find the thing that you lack' before bitterly saying he was only 'having a laugh' by even mentioning them.
Cocker's skill as a lyricist has never been in question, and 'The Fear' certainly has fine lyrics, but what really lifts up the song is, for once, the music. Pulp's back catalogue occasionally suffers because the band sometimes are unable to provide a backing as dramatic as the lyrics. Here, however, they are on fire, from the sinister guitar drone that opens the song right through to the haunting synthesiser line and searing guitar solo that dramatically bring the song to the end in a flurry of feedback - Jarvis doesn’t say a word for the last two minutes, and for once he doesn't need to.
Pulp are defined in many people's eyes by 'Different Class' and 'His 'N' Hers', which is a shame, because on the wonderfully claustrophobic 'This Is Hardcore' and the mature, almost pastoral 'We Love Life', the band kept developing and during this period made some of the best music of their careers. Whilst their peers lapsed into parodic self-repetition (of what wasn't really a very good idea in the first place), Pulp kept changing, growing and maturing. Although their later albums are all but forgotten these days, they are ripe for discovery in an increasingly retro and unadventurous pop music setting. Perhaps what really separated Pulp from their peers was Jarvis' unflinching honesty and refusal to simplify or resort to cliché when it came to human emotions and desires - something those trying to follow in his footsteps today should keep in mind.