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Jarvis Cocker, solo artist after the Pulp, appears alone. Despite the instrumental contribution of Steve Mackey, the historic bassist of the Sheffield band, and Richard Hawley, who had already collaborated fruitfully with Pulp. In the cover photo, he stands with a furtive expression against a half-gray and half-gray-green background (forget red and black...), and he even needs an arrow to distinguish him from the non-crowd. In the internal photos of the beautiful booklet, he is alone and bewildered: against an immense wall, indoors, on the street, on the stairs, in a corridor. All gone. Pulp no longer exists: no more provincial stories, tales of adolescent loves, pubs, and acrylic afternoons, Saturday nights of drawn-out fun and cigarettes until dawn, mortified sex, and Sunday dreams.
In this album, Cocker, bitter and disillusioned, sings the story of a chilling disillusionment, with very few or almost no hopes or ways out. And to communicate all this, the composed British dandy chooses nothing less than antithesis: so the album concludes with a chorus "Everything's going to be alright" to which it's evident that Cocker himself doesn't believe at all; then in the very sweet, xylophone-laden "Baby's coming back to me", which could sound like the perfect love song, it becomes clear, as the piece progresses, that she will never come back home; then the peaceful middle-class individual, who gives himself airs listening to classical music and occasionally enjoys looking at naked women on the internet, reveals himself as a potential murderer ("I Will Kill Again", minimal, apparently light but very disturbing, like the album as a whole); then "Disney Time", which one would expect to be a jaunty and colorful Pulp-style piece, turns out to be a suffocatingly gloomy track, rather akin to certain Nick Cave, with muffled drumming, dark arrangements, and a very low-toned Cocker (the best thing). Then the first single, "Running the world", is placed as a ghost track after 25 minutes of silence. And it says that the assholes run things. And therefore on the cover, next to that new disoriented Cocker, is a nice parental advisory sticker.
That said, there remains some Pulp residue at the musical level, but not too much. The atmosphere can, in some passages, resemble the darker and more introverted climate of "This is Hardcore" (as in "Heavy weather" or "Big Julie"), but many Pulp typicalities are missing here, from the arrangements of Candida Doyle to Cocker's typical talk-singing, which disappears completely. No track harks back to the glories of "His'n'hers" or "Different Class": other times. The contribution of Hawley can be felt here and there, especially in the pleasant opening ("Don't Let Him Waste Your Time") or in some tracks that have an almost dusty and dated aspect ("Tonite", "Quantum Theory"). For the rest, it's the new Jarvis, alone and solo. The result is a very compact work, spread over slow rhythms (only one true rock song: "Fat Children"), which gives up any excess noise to choose rather constant modulations and attenuations, mutes, and polishes. Smooth, on the verge of indifference, then pricking in the lyrics.
The British press has awarded much praise to this new Cocker, a disillusioned and ruthless analyst, focusing especially on the textual aspect of the album, perceived as a harsh critique of today's society at large, and the English one in particular. And musically, they praised its maturity, which led Cocker to slow down, to observe more things, with more awareness, with more concealed fragilities.
No fear, anyway: Cocker has not "grown old," as he warned listeners of "This Is Hardcore" not to do: the spirit has not been lost. He warns on the surface of the CD that the album "should not be used as a sedative," writes verses of extraordinary finesse and wit ("How come they're called 'Adult movies' when the only thing they show is people making babies filmed up close?") and, most importantly, still writes great songs. Succeeding perfectly in making it understood, albeit through an album with a quiet and seemingly serene sonic rendering, how bad it feels underneath. Perfect mimicry of reality.
Tracklist Lyrics and Videos
04 Heavy Weather (03:51)
This morning it was summer
By noon a cold front building
Where did you go?
Where did you go?
I got to find some shelter
'Cos any minute now
It's gonna blow
It's gonna blow
But I don't mind the rain
So strike me once again:
I've got nothing to lose
And it looks like we are in for stormy weather
With death and destruction coming through
Oh, look out there she blows
Now everybody knows:
Stormy weather always makes me think of you
And watch out 'cos the storm is coming through
But you're so still and silent
Whilst everything's dissolving
Melting away, melting away
But I don't mind the rain
So strike me once again
I got nothing to lose
Yeah, it looks like we are in for stormy weather
With death and destruction coming through
Oh, look out there she blows
Now everybody knows:
Stormy weather always makes me think of you
Oh and it looks like we are in for stormy weather
With death and destruction coming through
Oh, look out there she blows
Now everybody knows:
Stormy weather always makes me think of you
And watch out 'cos this storm is coming through
Yeah, watch out 'cos the storm is coming through
07 Fat Children (03:25)
Last night I had a little altercation
They wobbled menacingly
Beneath the yellow street light it became a situation
Well, they wanted my brand-new phone with all the pictures of the kids and the wife
A struggle ensued and then fat children took my life
Fat children took my life
Fat children took my life
Fat children took my life
Well, some passers-by took me to the station
The police force was elsewhere,
putting bullets in some guy's head for no particular reason
So I died in the back of the cab
but I'll be back to haunt them
This thing does not end here
My spirit walks the streets of Tottenham
Singing:
Fat children took my life
Fat children took my life
Fat children took my life
Oh, the parents are the problem
Giving birth to maggots without the sense to become flies
So pander to your pampered little princess
of such enormous size
08 From Auschwitz to Ipswich (03:51)
"They want our way of life"
Well, they can take mine any time they like
'Cos god knows - I know I ain't living right:
I'm wrong
Oh, I know I'm so wrong
So like the Roman Empire fell away
Let me tell you; we are going the same way
Ah, behold the Decline and Fall
All hold hands with our backs to the wall
It's the end:
Why don't you admit it?
It's the same from Auschwitz to Ipswich
Evil comes
I know from not where
But if you take a look inside yourself -
maybe you'll find some in there
Not one single soul was saved
I was ordering an Indian takeaway
I was spared whilst others went to an early grave
Oh, got stoned
Yeah, went out and got stoned
Well if your ancestors could see you standing there
They would gaze in wonder at your Frigidaire
They had to fight just to survive
So can't you do something with your life?
It's the end:
Why don't you admit it?
It's the same from Auschwitz to Ipswich
Evil comes
I know from not where
But if you take a look inside yourself -
maybe you'll find some in there
Here it comes, why don't you embrace it?
You lack the guts needed to face it
Say goodbye to the way you've been living
You never realised you were on the wrong side
And nobody's going to win
"They want our way of life"
Well, they can take mine any time they like
11 Big Julie (04:43)
She’s by herself again
in the quiet secret night
Below the neighbour’s window
hands in pockets, head on one side
And the radio plays an unknown song
that has nothing at all to do with God
But it’s miles away
from this sad town
and the stupid kids who get her down
Just wait until Big Julie rules the world
Big Julie rules the world
Well, the radio still plays
floating beyond time
like the greatest people in the world
all springing up and feeling fine
And it’s far away
from these sweaty lads
who say that boys
cannot be slags
And if it’s not them
then it’s their dads
Like the guy who felt
her up in class
And the Sunday-School teacher
who said she had beautiful breasts
and the local radio DJ
who is so obviously obsessed Yeah,
form an orderly queue when Big Julie rules the world
Big Julie rules the world.
Yeah, go and chase your dreams
but if your dreams are not your own
then wouldn’t it be better
just to work things out at home?
And she knows sex is just for dummies anyway
something you do when you’ve run out of things to say
But this song will play
until the light
It’s the sound of her trying
to find something to like
the sound of her walking
day and night
And this song may lead her
far away
but tonight it seems to light the way
And she can almost see the future shine
And everything’s in tune
and everything’s in time
And it will play until the day
Big Julie rules the world
Big Julie rules the world
14 Running the World (04:44)
Well did you hear, there's a natural order?
Those most deservin' will end up with the most?
That the cream cannot help but always rise up to the top
Well I say, "Shit floats"
If you thought things had changed
Friend, you'd better think again
Bluntly put, in the fewest of words:
Cunts are still runnin' the world
Cunts are still runnin' the world
Now the workin' classes are obsolete
They are surplus to society's needs
So let 'em all kill each other
And get it made overseas
That's the word don't ya know
From the guys that's runnin' the show
Lets be perfectly clear boys and girls:
Oh cunts are still runnin' the world
Cunts are still runnin' the world
Ah yeah!
Oh yeah!
Oh feed your children on crayfish and lobster tails
Find a school near the top of the league
In theory I respect your right to exist
I will kill ya if you move in next to me
Ah, it stinks, it sucks
It's anthropologically unjust
Oh but the takin's are up by a third
Oh so cunts are still runnin' the world
Yeah cunts are still running the world, ah yeah!
(Cunts are still running the world) Ohh!
(Cunts are still running the world)
The free market is perfectly nat'ral
Do you think that I'm some kind o' dummy?
It's the ideal way to order the world
Fuck the morals, does it make any money?
And if you don't like it? Then leave
Or use your right to protest on the street
Yeah, use your right but don't imagine that it's heard
No, not whilst cunts are still runnin' the world
Yeah, cunts are still runnin' the world
Yeah cunts are still runnin' the world!
Yeah cunts are still runnin' the world!
Oh cunts are still runnin' the world!
Cunts are still runnin' the.. world!
Cunts are still runnin'... the world..
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By Torre Ste
"Quantum Theory is a piece that impresses right from the first listen."
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