As one uncontrollably excited woman blurted, “I feel like I’ve waited my whole life for this”. Despite the chilly weather outside, there seemed to be a serious outpouring of warmth within the confines of the Forum as Melbourne punters geared themselves for their first – and lets face it, well overdue – encounter with Jarvis Cocker, the legendary voice of the working class, the stylish chap that fronted British super-band Pulp. Down in Oz as part of the travelling V Festival, Cocker unleashed a captivating set of cuts off his charming eponymous solo album of last year, but not before French openers Phoenix got everyone’s hips shaking with their disco-infused pop. Their sound was raw and anthemic, as their older material (such as the classic early single ‘Too Young’) sat well with the new, of which set-closer ‘Napoleon Says’ was a standout.
Soon enough a sprightly Jarvis trounced the stage, dressed as if he’d jumped straight off his album’s cover, launching into a rocking version of ‘Fat Children’ with his crack five-piece backing band (which incidentally featured Pulp bassist Steve Mackey). Ever the dithering Englishman, Cocker wasted no time in establishing friendly, if not meandering conversation with the audience in between songs, as he read passages from a Melbourne Lonely Planet book and shared his reflections on his first day in our city. His talking with the audience was frequent, perhaps causing a lack of momentum around the middle of his set, but it didn’t matter; we all had a lot of catching up to do, and this human element to the show proved to be rather touching.
The songs off the Jarvis record really come into their own in a live setting. With the nature of the tunes being quite simple, the band used the space in the songs well to add remarkable textures and atmosphere to the performance. While the rocking songs such as ‘Don’t Let Him Waste Your Time’ and ‘Black Magic’ were uncompromisingly powerful, perhaps the night’s highlight was Cocker’s stirring rendition of the ballad ‘Big Julie’. Heartfelt and yearning, all of us in the audience were reminded that Cocker is arguably one of the best communicators of goodwill and hope (albeit it with a dry sense of humour) in rock music.
The crowd – mostly consisting of hordes of pining women dressed like they were on a kamikaze mission to take Jarvis home – lapped up his every move, as he continued to muse about everyday life, lamenting the social coldness of public life these days as well as television’s negligent portrayal of life to children, which happens to be the subject of his somber track, ‘Disney Time’. Cocker didn’t dwell in such gloom for too long though, as he picked up the pace with the unreleased ‘Big Stuff’, a ferociously sleazy tale of woe initially written for Lee Hazelwood (who never actually sang it) that surely must count as one of the best songs he has ever written.
While Cocker obviously plays up to his ‘thinking woman’s sex symbol’ status, in the encore his cheeky anthem Running the World reminded us that it is still his bleeding socio-political heart that guides most of his work. Oh yeah, I should mention that that song was exceedingly awesome too. After extending his gratitude towards the smitten audience, he closed the night with the Talking Heads tune ‘Heaven’ (“OK, as thanks we’re gonna play an old tune now…no it’s not by Pulp”) before exiting the stage all too soon. What a refreshingly joyous evening.
