A Mournful Masterpiece
With the dark and seditious sounds of 'This Is Hardcore' Pulp woo you back to the era of Brit Pop, when playful tunes were turning in on themselves; luckily Jarvis Cocker and companions were still eloquent enough to record the ungracious end in what turned out to be possibly their finest effort.
'The Fear' with its tense slide guitars and trembling vocals is the sound of a soul on the edge accompanied by melodic moans and percussive peaks; 5 minutes of stimulating anguish, this is possibly the finest thing to come out of all the electro disco of Brit Pop. The mellow housework metaphors of 'Dishes' allow the sorrow in rising guitar notes and vocals to well up in the most of common of settings, increasing the poignancy. Of course only Pulp could create a raw tune called, 'Help The Ages' which features electronica that sears through your heart, despite the witty title.
'This Is Hardcore' is the piece de resistance; the lyrical deconstruction of an intimate encounter, but with a renewed, abandoned sensuality and grandiose synths that tingle up and down your spine. 'A Little Soul' mixes musing vocals and blues guitars, while 'Seductive Barry' is an uncomfortable mix of rasping vocals and swirling chants that stir you with their calculated, warped eroticism. 'Glory Days' takes the remorseful reflections into more upbeat territory with a cheery rhythm and ra lyrics that enthuse, "I could do anything, if only I could get round to it", while 'The Day After The Revolution' clears the air with its fresh and blissful feel of redemption and rebirth, sitting calmly listening to the last 5 minutes or so of chiming synths is rather like entering a state of rejuvenated nirvana and throwing out all the vitriol the album has allowed you to side with.
CD Two is equally exciting, starting with 'Cocaine Socialism', the song that formered the centre piece of the album and described the band's relationship with politics, but then caused Jarvis Cocker to have a nervous breakdown and refuse to release it. As could be expected it's a massive disco tune with plenty of wit, "Just one hit and I feel great and I support the welfare state" and it's back with the people, a day we should really celebrate. Another lost treat is 'It's A Dirty World', a searing synth number that looms like a party monster with trashcan percussion and vocoder angst, while crackling recording, discordant violins and testy keys back Cocker's whispered rap on 'The Professional', which invites you into a world of smoke and mirrors. As a contrast, 'Laughing Boy' returns to the melancholy, self-hatred that hangs over much of the album, another poignant summary of fragility and pain is, 'Can I Have My Balls Back, Please?' However the rock n'roll decadence of, 'We Are The Boyz' is an instant antidote to any lingering unhappy thoughts and the witty poetry of 'Modern Marriage's vows for today can't fail but evoke a smile. These tantalising titbits are definitely a delight to hear and I'd urge anyone who appreciates Pulp's material to get to the shops, lay back and revel in the soundtrack of their childhood.
They say that you love someone when your embrace your faults, and this album spills out all the woeful worries of Pulp in its captivating lyrics, but we can't help but love them even more. Cocker describes 'This Is Hardcore' as a record about failure; it definitely describes something ugly and base, but with such attention to detail that you find yourself in love with its lush honesty and achievable 'warts and all' perfection. This is love. This is hardcore.