Last night I saw a grown man play a recorder and threaten to spank people. But don't worry folks, I refer to Mr Jarvis Cocker and it was all in the name of entertainment.
After a fairly epic jaunt to Shoreditch (who knew Oxford to London could take so long?) to see a man who I think I've now pretty clearly established on this blog is a god to me, we faced legions of Britpop survivors at the bars surrounding the Troxy and ended up eating chips in a side road as we queued to get into the venue whilst avoiding the drizzle - how very Pulp. On a side note, it's rare these days that I feel young at a gig, so that was nice ...
The Troxy isn't somewhere I'd heard of before and neither, it seemed, had Mr Cocker. He joked it was so named to accommodate Northerners and was really 't'Roxy'. But despite its obscurity and dingy surroundings, the venue is actually really rather elegant - it won brownie points from me for its Art Deco interior and carpeted floors. Very swish. I even took my shoes off, it was that clean. Anyway, furnishings aside and on with the review. Goth garage rockers The Horrors were the support and I confess they passed me by; they sounded a bit samey to me and most of the crowd seemed to feel, well, the same. Personally I think they're a bit too trendy for their own good and look more like they belong in a Wella hair advert than on a tour with Jarvis, but hey I don't read NME anymore so what do I know, right? And perhaps we were all just too excited about the main attraction to give them a chance to seduce us. Jarvis was certainly worth being excited about; entering from stage right looking every inch the sleazy geography teacher (in his world and mine, that's a good thing) and kicking off with instrumental number 'Pilchard', his lanky frame leaped and scissor-kicked across the stage with abandon - at one point he jumped onto the amp next to me which, you can imagine, gave me a wee thrill. His energetic opener set the store for a magnificent gig in which he held the audience in the palm of his hand. Consisting mostly of tracks from new album Further Complications, I was pleased that my suspicions were correct and the album is definitely one to be enjoyed more live than on record, being so much meatier in performance. Giving not one but two encores, highlights were a sexy rendition of 'You're In My Eyes (Discosong)' complete with disco ball glittering to full effect, a storming 'Homewrecker' and 'Caucasian Blues', for which Jarvis took to the aforementioned recorder by way of pastiching the white appropriation of blues culture. For as the man himself said, what could be a whiter instrument than the recorder?!
You've gotta love the man for his intelligence, wit and silly dancing. I always love hearing Jarvis banter with the crowd, it's what makes every show he does so special. He's not one for banging them out and leaving (as it were) and quite right too. He seemed to be having a great time delivering his songs about middle aged libidinousness and rocking out in his own special way (I'm thinking something equating the Ministry of Silly Walks rather than headbanging). The show was punchy and animated and whilst it could have been longer, I suspect that's more to do with the fact I could always do with more of this Great Man and the old adage about time flying, etc etc than anything else. I might well be biased, but I reckon you'd be hard pushed to find anyone at that gig who didn't come away having had a lot of fun.
I've never seen a duff Pulp/Jarvis show and going on last night's show, never will. Like all my favourite things - cheese, wine, Leonard Cohen - JC just improves with age. Thanks for the memories Jarvis. Keep em coming!
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