This Is Hardcore

It is this, not the tabloideering they encountered or the post-fame comedown they endured, that 'This Is Hardcore' should be remembered as – a sprawling storybook of lives spent in the gutter, gazing at the stars.

The shift in direction shouldn't come as a surprise -- Pulp was always an arty band -- but even the catchiest numbers are shrouded in darkness. This Is Hardcore is haunted by disappointments and fear -- by the realization that what you dreamed of may not be what you really wanted.

On the long-awaited sequel to Pulp's breakthrough album, Different Class, England's unofficial laureate Jarvis Cocker perfects his poetry of the prosaic.

Those looking for an intimate glimpse into the mind of a man who has lost all hope but at least has the knowledge of mind to admit it - This is Hardcore is a record for you.

Pulp's "This Is Hardcore" is arguably the first pop album devoted entirely to the subject of the long, slow fade. This is a bold move because it breaks one of rock's oldest songwriting taboos. Rockers have always fled from the prospect of aging and ignored the mundane details of survival.

Once you adjust to this world, to the bleakness and the very '70s ambience, This Is Hardcore is a disturbingly alluring environment in which to lie down. And maybe stay down.

This Is Hardcore plays like a bleak but prophetic soundtrack for a cheap and nasty 21st century Britain.

Fact: Both types of song make This is Hardcore a great late- late- night listen.

'This Is Hardcore' is a Pulp LP as you know one only in as much as it's a concept LP about life and the weirdness of everything.

His wry way of shedding light on the grim minutiae of life makes him the new Morrissey, while ever-present strings provide Pulp songs with the grand-gesture climaxes that spell "hit status".

Although Cocker's feeble attempts at social commentary are still considered frightfully droll in Sheffield and parts of Belgium, many more will find his neurotic brooding on This Is Hardcore simply pathetic.