I first saw Pulp about a year ago when they livened up a depressing night at the Royal Hotel with their youthful energy and sense of fun. Still, I thought they might be one of those bands you see once and then never again, as they sink into the realms of the millions who never carry on in the face of apathy. Pulp did carry on, even though at the time they didn't send me details about the group so I could write about them then. Pulp are still injecting colour and light into mundane, grey lives, as you'll realise if you read my review of their gig at the Hallamshire in Issue 21. Pulp are a pop group, so perhaps it's wrong for me to write about them, except I still like pop music when it's pure and honest, and anyway, ever since I started printing I've spent days on end listening to Radio 1, which tends to warp the brain a bit, and I find myself liking a lot of music which I find quite immoral.

Pulp are four persons, ages 15-18, who go to City School where they have to listen to teachers lecturing on the virtues of work over playing in bands. Perhaps they'll take the band a bit more seriously after their session is broadcast on Radio 1. They gave John Peel a tape at his Sheffield Polytechnic roadshow date, and spent the next two weeks glued to the radio every night between ten and twelve in case he mentioned them. Two weeks later he did. And as if that wasn't enough he then phoned them up to arrange a session, which was being recorded on 7th November in London.

'We used to practice round me Grandma's using the coal scuttle for drums', says gangling lead singer/guitarist/songwriter Jarvis Cocker explaining the group's humble origins. 'The first song we learned to play were 'House Of The Rising Sun'. Then we wrote one called 'Shakespeare Rock'.

Armed with their own songs they stunned the world first at Rotherham Arts Centre in July 1980, then progressed to other local venues and the highlight of their stage career so far, supporting Echo & The Bunnymen at the Limit. They recorded some songs at Ken Patton's Handsworth home studio with a view to releasing a single but decided they couldn't afford to follow it through. In any case, they say the recording was 'a bit smoothie'.

The thing which immediately sets Pulp apart from other bands if you go and see them live (a recommended experience) is their sense of EVENT. 'Lots of groups just go and stand there and don't do anything' bemoaned Jarvis in explaining why they do things like wearing cardboard cones over their heads and having girls come on stage and drape toilet rolls round them. Incidentally, one of the girls was quite upset about falling off the stage when they played at the Hallamshire, and even more upset when the incident was reported in 'NMX', but has now come to terms with fame and acclaim and is quite proud of it. 'It's something to look at.... makes it a bit more interesting. One thing that sparked it off - I read in that Grey Matter magazine about Prior To Intercourse, that performance art thing.... it were all supposed to be meaningful. We're taking the piss out of things being artistic and meaningful, because it weren't'.

Musically, Pulp churn out catchy, short songs with a definite bizarre touch. Their sound is ramshackle, twanging and clanging guitar, tinny synth, pounding drums. The songs fall into three categories - 'Nice love songs, well they're not really nice ... alright they are I suppose, I have to admit it, other ones with stories like waking up and finding you haven't got the same face you went to bed with and nobody else notices, very existentialist and another about being trapped on a South Sea Island by this woman with voodoo powers .... then there's the social comment ones (much laughter). We haven't got much social comment.' Which isn't to say they don't feel strongly about certain issues, just they can't see the point in singing about them unless they can think of my anything original to say on the subjects.

Influeunces? Devo, Bunnymen and punk, though to educated ears they have more in common with the best music of the late sixties era, none of which they've been exposed to. Last words from the group: 'I want to be a pop star but not like Phil Oakey'. Can't say I blame them.

We are not emused

Pulp
Sheffield Marples

AT ONE time the word pulp was used to denote a type of cheap American fiction magazine, the term derived from the fact that the magazines were printed on low-grade recycled pulp paper. Nowadays the word Pulp denotes a wilfully eccentric five-piece pop group whose music generates a kind of fairground/carnival feel.

The members of Pulp are all good Yorkshire lads. Jarvis Cocker is the main man, tall and skinny (what the Yanks call 'rangy') with a poise reminiscent of Olive Oyl. The muscles of his brawny arms stand out like knots on cotton, as my dear old dad used to say. His credentials as a singer and guitarist are pretty much unimpeachable. I've just spent the best part of an hour watching him lead Pulp through their paces, an initially enjoyable but ultimately unfulfilling experience.

The songs were all brisk and sprightly, with lots of loopy melodies reminiscent of XTC, only not as irritating. I'm not going to play the old comparisons game cos that would be taking the easy way out. It's crass and lazy, a shortcut to original thought. Besides which, Pulp are tricky, hard to pin down.

Decent numbers included 'What Do You Say', allegedly the highlight of Des Moines' new 'Your Secret's Safe With Us' compilation, and the slow-burning 'How Could You'. Very nice stuff indeed. The unfortunate thing is that when I go to a concert, I often find my attention beginning to wander about two-thirds of the way through, and so it was with Pulp. They have a certain charm, it's true. But charm is a hard quality to pin down, and after a while I began to think of other things. (I couldn't help wondering, for instance, why the skinhead in front off me kept shouting, "Where's my emu?"). This may have been purely my fault, or it may have been due to some latent deficiency in Pulp's music. Either way, I never managed to regain my initial enthusiasm.

The Sheffield fanzine Pink Flag recently referred to Pulp as "Unpredictable, whacky, possible brilliant outsiders." I'm more inclined to think of them as the musical equivalent of a Milky Way bar, a band you can safely listen to without fear of ruining your appetite for something more substantial when the times comes.

PETE SCOTT

Pulp Posers

'We're not a joke, we're a silly band'

A certain member of Pulp, who for reason of dignity shall remain nameless 'was once reduced to tears by the relentless hee-heeing of a Sheffield pub audience.

Funny thing, humour. It's a mainstay of the Pulp way of life. But there's always been a fine line between the audience laughing with – and at – Pulp.

Some poor, unenlightened souls even regard them as a bit of a joke. After all, you are treading on dangerous ground when you cut up your mam's curtains and wear them as trousers on stage.

Or when you wreak an awful revenge on a heckling member of the audience by biting him on the head. Step forward singer Jarvis Cocker...

It's when things go OVER the audience's head that the problems arise. Pulp are clever, witty and satirical – and maybe a bit misunderstood.

They send up everything. "The music's not humorous. It's serious," says Jarvis. "But I hate the precious artistic stance that lots of bands adopt. We make fun of that.

"The funny side is the band sending themselves up, I once said, 'Come on, we're rock stars, let's have some respect', and the audience thought I meant it.

"I try and take the mickey out of the audience. Sometimes they just stand there looking gormless."

"I like to antagonise the audience", says new Pulp member Peter Boam, ex-Mortuary In Wax.

"I do," agrees Jarvis. "though not insult them. We're not a joke, we're a silly band. We're not afraid of making fools of ourselves. I'm sure some people do laugh at us."

"It's a bad thing to be laughed at constantly," says Peter.

There are signs that Pulp are starting to take things pretty seriously.

Some serious gigging, starting with a slot at the Crucible's new Stars On Sundae concert series tomorrow along with Treehouse and Mark Miwurdz.

A Long and serious look at the band's line-up. Two old Pulpers were lost to university, leaving Jarvis with guitarist Wayne Furniss and keyboards man David "Henry" Hinkler.

Grafted onto that are drummer Peter and ex-Artery keyboard man Simon Trick, now on bass. Artery's manager Tony Perrin has taken Pulp seriously under his wing.

And in a couple of weeks they're into the studios to record a five or six-track mini-album. Very serious.

But tomorrow at the Crucible promises to be a right laugh, as they say.

"We might do something surreal," say Jarvis. "But not anything funny ha-ha like someone on a West Street pub crawl showing his bum in the Hallamshire."

Well, that's a relief.