Live Review: Pulp, The O2 Arena, 14/06/2025

If last year was a Brat Summer then this year is without a doubt to be declared a Britpop summer

“She’s obsessed and she's made our daughter obsessed now too" sighs the man standing next to me. I'm at the Pulp early album listening party as raffle tickets are being drawn allowing attendees to get their hands on a super limited pressing, and her number's  just been called.

It’s been twenty-four years since Pulp’s last album, and a week since the release of their most recent, aptly named More, and two weeks after the early listening parties. The night before they took to the O2 Arena’s iconic stage for the second time, the record was announced as the Official UK number 1.

To clear up any confusion, this is the first Pulp record released in my lifetime. But sitting in the O2 Arena on Saturday night, awaiting a showtime of 8pm prompt, I am not alone. It’s surprisingly a very mixed demographic tonight, and despite some of the themes within Pulp’s expansive back catalogue (try singing along to This Is Hardcore whilst sitting beside your parents…yeah), it is arguably a family affair tonight. 

It goes without saying Silence & Sound probably wouldn’t exist if I hadn't grown up with the soundtrack of my dad’s iPod on a Saturday morning, of which contained two albums I’ve come to appreciate more in my twenties: Different Class and His n Hers. 

And to address the comments of my extended family members; yes, I have dragged my parents here tonight, no, it wasn’t the other way around. In fact, Pulp is easily one of my all time faves.

Looking at other bands who have decided to get back together in an attempt to make music as magic as they did some thirty odd years ago, not much should really be expected, and the comeback single shouldn’t be the opening song to a show on such a large scale. But it really works. 

Against a backlit blue circle and accompanied by cardboard cutouts of his fellow bandmates, the instantly recognisable frame of Jarvis Cocker appears onstage with flailing limbs, singing Spike Island, setting the night up perfectly. “I was born to perform / It’s a calling / I exist / To do this / Shouting and pointing” he sings as he frolics down the steps, the screen behind him displaying moving clouds, and later the backdrop of the new album’s artwork. 

And he’s not wrong. I could’ve told you this before I’d even booked my ticket for tonight, but Jarvis Cocker is every bit the perfect frontman. Each song is introduced with a little anecdote, the next number teased,  whether it be a question as to whether anyone’s been shopping today (Farmer’s Market) or a chat about the previous night at the O2 (Do You Remember The First Time?), or simply a statement that we’ll carry on with the theme of afternoons (Acrylic Afternoons). Between songs, Cocker reaches into his blazer pockets, bizarrely throwing grapes and sweets into the audience, and later asking everyone to hype him up as he attempts to catch a grape in his mouth (he misses, dusts it off, then eats it anyway). He’s a true showman.

Cocker conducts the crowd to sing ‘happy birthday’ to bassist, Andrew McKinney,  before using it to cleverly introduce the spectacularly dramatic, Help The Aged, the screens requesting the crowd to help with the high notes. 

A novelty to me, yet bar staff’s worst nightmare, an interval splits the show into two  acts, a curtain falling theatrically. Having been scammed out of over twelve pounds for three bottles of water, I headed back to the stands just in time for the fan vote. Tonight, the choice is between deepcuts 59 Lyndhurst Grove and Don’t You Want Me Anymore?, cheering encouraged by a voice over, and a decibel scale on the screens objectively measuring the screaming. The former wins, thus concluding the interval, as Pulp’s key original four members emerge from behind the curtain, congregating downstage to perform an acoustic rendition of Something Changed, Cocker revealing it was one of the first songs they played together in someone’s living room when they decided to regroup. The crowd sings louder than the band, a truly special moment. 

Speaking of fans, the crowd dynamic (maybe just in my section, though) is, well, confusing. For benefit of the doubt, it could just be that I’m used to attending on the weekly gigs of modern artists at major scale events and grassroots venues alike where everyone screams every word, regardless of when the song was released, and move to the sonics whether they like what they’re hearing or not. However, it’s like a game of musical chairs up in the lower seated sections: stand if you know it, sit down if it’s a song released in 2025. That or head to the bar, despite the hour and a half between doors and showtime, plus the additional interval. Bearing in mind, this started from literally the second song on the set list. My Dad’s left baffled by those who instantly sat down again for F.E.E.L.I.N.G.C.A.L.L.E.D.L.O.V.E, the man who’s ingrained into me from a young age that it’s “The greatest song of all time”. 

That being said, when the crowd is up for it, they give it their all. The room erupts for Disco 2000 (at tonight’s renamed venue, the O2000), complete with confetti cannons firing streamers which I later saw people boarding the tube wearing as scarves. 

Aside from Cocker’s dance moves, the visuals and production of the show is truly mesmerising; a montage from the iconic music video accompanied by a pre-recorded voice over from Cocker precludes hit Babies, and during Common People, the frontman occupies the pit with a camera, close-ups of those in the front rows appearing on the huge screens. 

A pink glove is thrown onstage, Cocker announcing it’s reminded him of something, the crowd losing their shit for what this could ensue, before the frontman explains the band won’t be playing that tonight. “You’re all disappointed now, aren’t you?” he quizzes, before offering Common People instead. It’s not a fair compromise, but it kicks off positively, the crowd chanting every word, and Cocker handing out teabags at one point. 

Confetti and pyrotechnics conclude the band’s biggest hit, before they exit the stage. People around us begin to follow suit, until Jarvis re-emerges, offering up one more song. It’s atmospheric album closer, A Sunset, played accompanied by strings, the curtain open slightly creating almost a spotlight on Cocker. Some leave anyway, and whilst it’s an odd closing number given the high of its predecessor, it’s a lovely final moment. 

You deserve More read the posters directing to the heaving Greenwich tube station. Whilst in some cases, receiving more can lead to expectations falling short, Pulp’s musical return is a triumphant celebration of the golden era of Britpop, their legacy only continuing to thrive in 2025, as more generations are introduced to their witty and vital force. I for one won’t be forgetting the first time anytime soon.

KATIE HILLIER