JARVIS COCKER
Jarvis
Rough Trade
· It's hard not to care.
Every British review published on Jarvis Cocker's first post-Pulp solo project (well, besides the pseudonym-driven Relaxed Muscle), is sure to mention the quick fall of the man's almighty prior gig from writing the penultimate musical moments of the BritPop era to watching a greatest hits collection slither into the U.K. charts at No. 71. You can view the rise and fall of Pulp as something worth mocking or, in a weird way, with a sense of pride and reclamation. Cocker's literary-minded variant of rock ’n’ roll has always been better suited to the few over the masses. Still, with that in mind, it's little surprise the past hero of industrial Sheffield jumped to the mainland for a life of relative obscurity (not to mention fatherhood) in Paris.
Upon the back of the notoriety of hidden track "Cunts Are Still Ruling The World" (a far cry from the revolutionary calls of Different Class), arrives the simply-put Jarvis. Pulp was always about Cocker anyway, and while it's easy to miss Candida Doyle's keyboard bits here and there, it's not really his aim to grab back the UK charts. Forget about a return to form (when was he ever really off?), but take it as a return to the light, pretty much right where Pulp left off with the underrated and underappreciated We Love Life. Jarv's still in love with the likes of early Scott Walker and David Bowie, but there's noticeably less in the way of his previous epic-mindedness and naughty innuendos. What's in its place, however, is best described as the musical equivalent to his online storytelling Jarvcasts – an artist comfortable in his achievements with little in the way of obtrusive decoration and trickery.
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