Prologue: Got To Make A Move To A Town That’s Right For Me…
Chapter One: Chicago, Come Alive And By The Way
Chapter Two: Gigs That Went Down in Pulp History, in History
Here Comes The Fear Again: 24 Hour Interlude
Chapter Three: So I Went to New York City
Chapter Four: L.A: The Barrier Angels Have Taken Over Orange Drive Hostel
Epilogue: Santa Monica
Prologue: Got To Make A Move To A Town That’s Right For Me…
Even now, over two months on, I remember it so well. I sat in my seat on my British Airways flight, taking off from Heathrow Terminal 5. I could barely contain my anticipation. I was listening to ‘Funky Town’ as the plane took off, for reasons that are beyond me. I was about to follow my favourite band, Pulp, across America, for two whole weeks. I also quickly discovered that I didn’t have to pay for the cans of Coca Cola offered in-flight! I basically had free Coca Cola on tap! It couldn’t get any better than this, surely? But, despite all of this, I couldn’t help but feel a little melancholy.
Back in June, I sat with my friend Sab in Bari Airport, Italy, the day after Pulp played in Taranto. Our journey following Pulp across Europe had come to an end, but we had the American dates to look forward to in September. It would be a long summer, with both of us working in hospitality jobs, but we’d all gather again soon. We excitedly talked about our plans as we said our goodbyes. Unbelievably, I had only committed to doing two Pulp USA dates at the time. I ended up doing seven.
This time though, we didn’t have another tour leg to look forward to beyond America. What had been labelled as the ‘Encore’ tour from the very start, back in May 2023, now really did feel like a finale. It was impossible not to view this leg as a final victory lap.
It’s partially why I worked so hard in McDonalds over the summer, picking up any shift I could to raise funds. It’s also why I sold over 100 of my possessions on Vinted. For the non-Brits reading, Vinted is like eBay, but better. The looming thought that this could be the final chapter of my Pulp tour follower life, combined with the attraction of the tour dates being in small venues, made this leg of the Encore tour unmissable.
What had been such a wonderful experience felt like it was reaching its final chapter. Fortunately, I was proven to be wrong. Very wrong.
So, read on as I try to put into words what was the most life-fulfilling, life-changing and most importantly best experience of my entire life. A two weeks jam-packed with the most glorious highs, with a couple of lows added in for good measure. Two weeks which I spent with the best of friends, grew closer with others, and made new friends too. I cheered, I laughed, I cried and then I cheered again. Two weeks in which I went to seven Pulp gigs, heard four new Pulp songs, and made memories I will never forget.
Maybe you were in the audience on these particular gigs. If not, don’t worry. Because you’re there now. I’ve kept you in the prologue long enough. Let’s land in Chicago, shall we? This is us, and you. Together. For two weeks, in America.
Chapter One: Chicago, Come Alive, And By The Way
I stayed with my beloved friend Heather for six days before the first Pulp concert, in what was a gorgeous apartment that was quite far from the centre, but close to the Aragon Ballroom. It gave us some time to hang out, as she had been away working at Disneyland Florida over the summer, and also for me to get over my jet-lag. Keeping true to the instincts of Pulp fans, our activities included exploring thrift stores for cheap clothing bargains and finding the best coffee shops in the area.
Looking back now, the days spent in Chicago seem to merge into one. Sab joined us for a night out when they arrived, and we hit inner city Chicago to explore the karaoke bars it had to offer. There is footage of Heather and I performing a rendition of Islands In The Stream, but I have omitted it here for the sake of our dignity.
The days preceding the Pulp Chicago concert were also the start of a very important love affair. In an unsuspecting pizza cafe near our apartment, I tried a Mexican Coca Cola for the first time. It changed my life. Where I could find it, I used this beverage to make me incredibly hyper before Pulp shows. It rescued my energy levels on multiple occasions.
When we woke up that morning, we had no way of knowing…
Before we knew it, the week was over and it was time to head down to the Aragon Ballroom to start queueing. We’ve used the nickname ‘barrier angels’ for a long time now to describe all of us that follow Pulp on tour, but I feel like it was on the American leg of this tour where the barrier angels group really formed. We all gathered together for the first time in the mid morning Chicago sun, and the group of us stuck together throughout the tour.
The Pulp tour following experience wouldn’t have been half as good without them all by my side. Truth be told, I think I would have gone insane if they weren’t with me.
I quickly realised, whilst day queueing, that a couple of barrier angels shared the same enthusiasm for me regarding the London Underground, much to the horror of Heather, who found the idea of people having favourite tube lines nauseating. Later on, we were treated to hearing Pulp run through the entire set during their soundcheck.
Both Razzmatazz and Monday Morning were heard through the muffled walls, and that made us all very excited. It was acknowledged by Giles Acrylic that I walked back to my queueing spot the second I realised Pulp had started sound-checking Weeds, which should tell you all you need to know about my views towards the song’s consistent inclusion on the setlist.
The Pulp barrier angels with their friendship bracelets!
There’s also a lovely clip of Sab and I practicing our pink glove throwing. Tossing a glove onto the stage whilst Jarvis is introducing Pink Glove is an art that has to be carefully mastered, and takes hours of practice. Cecilia, one of my fellow barrier angels, is particularly good at this and I believe managed to get a glove on stage three times on the American leg of the tour. I’ve tried a few times but always failed spectacularly. I don’t know how she does it.
Sab and I practicing.
The Chicago venue did offer a ‘fast pass’ entry which cost $20 on top of the price of the ticket itself. Annoying, but definitely worth it. There were very few venues across the American leg that didn’t have a similar system in place, one way or another. With the presence of dynamic pricing becoming ever more common in the UK, I do fear that we are also heading towards these very American fast track systems being introduced.
The run to barrier, which is always a treacherous, nerve-racking experience (more on worse experiences later) was quite straightforward in Chicago, and all of the barrier angels managed to get a coveted barrier spot. Water is wet, you might say.
Pulp’s concert intro slides are always electrifying.
Pulp’s first show back was a raucous affair. The first three songs, I Spy/Disco 2000/Monday Morning, stay in my mind in particular as it was so nice to have Heather back with me on barrier. People can’t believe this when we tell them, but we actually didn’t know each other before tour began, having met in the day queue before Pulp Manchester. It was up in the air for a while if she was going to make it to any of the Pulp USA shows. I got emotional during the first few songs for this reason, but that’s not out of the ordinary. I could also tell she was getting emotional too though, and that is out of the ordinary.
Where it all started…
Now, of course, I have to talk about Spike Island. There had been rumblings that Pulp had sound-checked a song that “nobody had recognised” before doors. Although this sends the mind racing, it’s important to not get too excited considering we were listening through the walls. Sure enough, Jarvis stated that Pulp were about to play “a new song” at the start of the second encore. Cue the entire barrier falling into hysterics.
I’ve said to a few people before that, as a young fan of Pulp, I used to listen to After You and wonder what it would have been like to hear a new Pulp song for the first time. I imagine this gave the impression that the thought may have just occasionally crossed my mind in passing. Oh, no no. It was a lot more intense than that.
When I heard Common People for the first time in 2019 (16th January, around 6:30pm, sitting in my living room), I knew everything had changed for me there and then. It’s cliche, but for 16 year old me, it was very much a light bulb moment. If I close my eyes now, I can still distinctively imagine how I felt hearing the ‘you’ll never understand…’ verse for the first time. It was like experiencing the head-rush of a downward drop on a rollercoaster. I love many other artists and bands, but how emotionally connected I feel towards Pulp is something I feel towards no other, and I doubt it will ever be replicated.
As it was their last studio track to have been released back in 2013, After You somewhat became a song for teenage me to daydream to. More often than not, I would pause whatever I was doing and imagine, viscerally, what it would have been like to hear a new Pulp song for the first time. The real world where Pulp were inactive would slowly fade away, and I would yearn to feel something that was beyond my reach.
I never once wished for a Pulp future, only a Pulp past that I wished I could have been old enough to experience. To believe in a Pulp future felt ridiculous; it felt like pining for something that was beyond even a pipe dream. Many, many nights were spent in my adolescence where I would watch low quality, grainy clips of the 2011/12 tour on YouTube, focusing especially on the two Brixton shows. I can quote every word of Jarvis’ pre-song rambles from the 2011 Brixton concerts, his every move and note permanently etched into my mind. If only I had just been that little bit older.
Upon hearing Spike Island played live for the first ever time, it was impossible not to think of those same memories. I couldn’t believe my eyes; Pulp were playing a new song right in front of me, and it sounded so good! I didn’t cry, which surprised me. I think I was just frozen in shock. Spike Island really is tremendous, my favourite element being Mark’s fantastic guitar work.
“This is our life for two weeks now…” remarked Jocelyn after the show, as we all stood in the emptying pit of the Ballroom, not wanting to leave too quickly. I think that’s when the scale of what we were all embarking on truly hit me. This was about to be the best two weeks of my life.
I tweeted out my recording of Spike Island on Twitter, which audibly has Heather asking “it’s called what?” in the background. Shortly after, this reply came in. Heather and I couldn’t stop laughing at this in our Chicago apartment.
Chapter Two: Gigs That Went Down in Pulp History, in History
I have a tendency to book the same flights as Pulp’s tour crew, having done this three times across Europe, and alas my flight to Toronto was when it happened again. As we were all in the cheap seats towards the back of the plane, walking past the tour crew who were sat at the front did bring with it a sense of awkwardness. It also served an exciting reminder though that this was really happening. We had just seen Pulp yesterday, and now we were on a flight to see them in a different country, with the next gig being tomorrow!
British, American and Australian. Photo taken by Jocelyn.
My friend group have a tendency to say ‘it’s all happening’ which is a phrase taken from the movie Almost Famous, said by character Penny Lane. Heather started saying it at some point, and it’s stuck. Sab and I must have said this about 10 times when we were on the flight to Toronto. A memory that also stays with me is when my friend group took a photo of our passports; British, American and Australian. Such is the way Pulp have been able to bring people together from across the world.
When we landed, we made sure to explore what central Toronto had to offer before calling it a night. Just like when I was in Amsterdam for Pulp earlier on in the year, I couldn’t help but notice how strikingly modern Toronto’s infrastructure was compared to what I knew in Britain back home.
Sab and I before our first concert in Toronto. Photo taken by: Fue.
Toronto Night One was one of the queues I enjoyed the most. Some of my friends had online work shifts that they were conquering in the queue, others were engaging in the non-compulsory but still essential work of making Pulp tour memorabilia, from friendship bracelets to stickers. I didn’t come prepared with anything so I normally watched everyone hard at work, and basked in how happy I felt to be in their company. I got (voluntarily) indoctrinated into the world of Suede by Giles and Jocelyn, learnt that ‘Maple’ is a completely normal name for a pet dog in Canada, and was educated by Sab about ‘jaffles;’ a toasted sandwich that is very popular in Australia.
One of the stickers made by Amanda that was stuck to the shoe of Giles Acrylic, but later Sab and I found stuck to a sidewalk.
The venue Toronto History was a fantastic venue and its difficult to fault it. It did have a weird queueing system though. If you were a holder of an Amex card, you could join a separate queue. We would all be let in at the same time, but being in a separate queue does have its benefits when the margin of error to get barrier is so small.
I don’t have an Amex card; I’m a student for goodness sake. One of the Amex-card-owning barrier angels may have taken advantage of the benefits, though. I’m not naming names. He was able to get in first both Toronto nights though and save space on the barrier, which was a godsend for those us that got held up with tickets and security.
Toronto Night One remains, for now, my favourite ever Pulp concert. After seeing Pulp dominate festival stages across the summer, to witness the same set in a 2,500 capacity venue was mesmerising. Such a night of watching Pulp in close capacity was summed up by Jarvis being able to reach out and grab someone’s phone so he could view a photo of their Pulp Toronto ticket from the 90s.
Toronto was bloody close!
The proximity of the venue also meant that Mark telling me to “put your phone away!” before the live debut of ‘My Sex’ could be heard loud and clear. I still filmed though, because of course I did. I was consciously aware throughout the tour that so many fans across the world would be eager to hear the new songs, so I tried to publish my recordings on social media as quickly as I could after the shows ended.
Sorry Mark. Video captured by Cecilia.
We also got a surprise addition with Lipgloss third song in, a track that had not been played since the turn of the year at Edinburgh’s Hogmanay. The third song in the set quickly became the ‘rotation’ song of the night as the tour went on. It wasn’t quite the equielevent of the Taylor Swift ‘surprise songs’ that you get on the Eras tour, as every track Pulp played in the third song slot had been played at least once before the American leg, but it was still nice to hear some variation.
A special mention has to go to Emma Smith here as well. Just like she did in Hogmanay, Emma knocked it out of the park with her guitar-playing on Lipgloss. She’s incredible and such a valuable asset to this incarnation of Pulp.
There was something so incredible about Toronto Night One. The band were at the top of their game, and they looked like they were having so much fun. The atmosphere in the venue was electric, and hearing ‘My Sex’ for the first time was the icing on top of what was already an incredibly appetising cake. As Jarvis sung lyrics about the fluidity of gender, I quickly realised this was going to be my favourite song out of the new tracks. I dread to think about what I must have looked like from the barrier upon hearing “I haven’t got a gender/I haven’t got an agenda” for the first time.
Ask any of the barrier angels that were present at this show and they’ll tell you that not only was it one, if not the, best show on the American leg, they’ll also tell you that the collective feeling among us all after the show was unparalleled. Perhaps it was the realisation we were in the middle of following a tour, or maybe it was the excitement of hearing another new song, but we were all ecstatic. It felt like anything was possible in Pulp land. I don’t think any of us got much sleep that night.
The very sought after, complete set of Pulp patches that I brought after this show. Aren’t they so beautiful?
You can see how special Toronto night one was as we’re all smiling with our eyes.
This feeling carried on into the next morning, where we all gathered once again outside Toronto History bright and early. We were all collectively realising that we weren’t experiencing a final victory lap for our beloved band. We were experiencing a Pulp renaissance. We were living through a golden age of Pulp where anything was now in the realms of possibility.
It was during Toronto Night Two that I was able to tick off something on my Pulp bucket-list. The song O.U. (Gone, Gone), on the Encore tour, had been debuted in Scandinavia in August. This took every Pulp fan by surprise and made us all annoyed, as barely anyone had decided to book the rather expensive festivals that Pulp headlined in Sweden and Finland.
I had never even considered the possibility of hearing O.U. live and the thought somewhat melted my brain. Toronto Night Two was the night when it finally happened. The stylophone was brought to sit on Mark’s keyboard pre-show, which was, of course, first noted by Giles Acrylic. This news made Jocelyn and I tear up near enough instantly. We didn’t have to wait long as O.U. occupied the rotational third song slot.
To gear the track into motion, Jarvis made the left hand side of the auditorium perform the ‘o’ sound, and then further instructed the right side to make the ‘u’ sound. This was fantastic crowd work and built hype. O.U. is rip-roaring live, but our Jarv’s crowd-working skills gave what is quite an obscure track the prelude it deserved.
Jarvis told us later on that he had managed to visit the DVP Rainbow Tunnel, featured on the cover art of Pulp’s Hits Album, after telling us about the location with much enthusiasm the previous night. The screen behind displayed a very cute photo of him deploying the peace sign in his bucket hat.
O,U!
I think Jarvis heard us during TIH!
If you haven’t been to a Pulp show before, Jarvis has a ‘bit’ where he likes to ask the audience if Pulp have forgotten to play anything, before launching into what is always a rousing rendition of Common People. When he’s ‘asking’ the audience, he likes to tease obscure tracks from Pulp’s roster, usually by singing parts of them.
This probably means nothing to the regular punter, but to the barrier angels, oh christ does it mean everything. I’ve heard Jarvis tease so many of my favourite songs that I’m yet to hear live, and probably never will: Love Is Blind, My Lighthouse, Styloroc (Nites of Suburbia) to name just a few.
I mention this specific ‘bit’ here as I’m convinced we very nearly got ‘The Fear’ played during Toronto Night Two. As we were all shouting it from barrier, Mark started playing the opening chords, which he’s done a couple of times before. There was a moment of hesitation from Jarvis and I thought for one second he was going to cave and agree to sing it. Sadly though, this didn’t happen. The Fear continues to be a song that has yet to be touched on Pulp’s Encore Tour.
Like A Friend, since the beginning of this tour, has become a staple in Pulp’s setlist. I hope it stays there forevermore as not only is it a beautiful track, but it also allows the band to illustrate how in tune they are with one another. Jarvis and Mark, on almost every tour date of this leg, smiled at each other as they strummed away, whilst Candida watched on like a proud mum.
Waiting at barrier for a Pulp show to start never gets old.
Here Comes The Fear Again: 24 Hour Interlude
This ‘interlude’ is going to cover what happened when my flights were cancelled and I was left behind in Canada whilst all of my fellow barrier angels jetted off to NYC. If you want to skip ahead to Chapter 3 and get back to the Pulp action, I completely understand. If you want insight into what can happen when you’re following a tour and things go wrong, keep reading.
As I arrived at Billy Bishop Airport to fly to Newark in the morning, with the next Pulp show tomorrow in Brooklyn the next day, I got The Dreaded Email that no one with a tight travel turnaround wants to receive. My flight had been cancelled, and I had been rescheduled on a flight that wouldn’t leave until 5:20pm. Sab and I were originally scheduled to fly out on the same flight, but they had been rescheduled for an earlier flight in the afternoon. After initially panicking, I made peace with my delay. I said bye to Sab when it was time for them to board, and prepared myself to stake out the wait.
The Billy Bishop Airport departure terminal was so tiny that it felt like being in quarantine. There were many people actively losing their temper. A lot of individuals were pacing up and down the relatively little space we had to navigate. There are floors of shopping centres, or sorry, malls, that are bigger than the departure lounge at Billy Bishop Airport.
One of my Instagram stories from the time. God knows how the grape survived all the way back to the UK…
Alas, with no boarding information available on the board for my flight, my worst fears were confirmed again and again as I sat waiting. My estimated time of take off kept getting pushed back, before the board was stating that we would be leaving at *10pm*. I went up to the Porter Airlines help desk a few times, mirroring the exact people I used to laugh at when I watched the TV show Airline. They were at best unhelpful and at worst insultingly rude.
I knew the writing was on the wall when I asked the desk for the location of the plane at 9pm, as the flight was meant to take off in an hour, and they told me it hadn’t even left Newark. Sure enough, not long after I had been told this helpful information, an announcement was made on the intercom that the flight had been cancelled. And, best of all, the airport was now closing. Have a nice night!
I maintain that if this fiasco had happened with friends, I still would have seen it as a stressful situation, but I would have also been able to laugh in the face of adversity. Going through it alone was an entirely different story. All I kept thinking was how all of my friends were in a completely different country to me, and the next concert was tomorrow.
Meme made by Giles Acrylic.
Initially, the Porter Airlines desk didn’t want to give me a hotel for the night, and they were trying to reschedule me on a flight tomorrow that would take off at 6pm. “What am I going to do? Sleep on the street?” I said, having lost all of my patience by this point. I kept pressuring and by some miracle, they caved and gave me a hotel room for the night. Of course, it would be up to me to book my flight for tomorrow morning though.
By the time I got to my hotel room, it was midnight. I knew I had to be up at 3am to travel to the airport and clear security and customs, with my flight taking off at 7am. I found it hard to fall asleep as I knew I was exhausted and was thus petrified of sleeping through my alarm.
What followed when I woke up the next morning was incredibly stressful and entailed one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. I’m not going to go into too much detail about it here, as I’ve already written about it extensively on a previous blog post. To sum up, I am a sufferer of the chronic health condition endometriosis. Whilst travelling to the larger Toronto Pearson Airport, I experienced a horrific flare-up. I went through check in, security and customs whilst masking the horrendous amount of pain that I was in. To my horror, no toilets were open pre-security, which is appalling for such a large airport.
I would not wish standing in an airport security scanner, feeling like your insides are being ripped apart but still needing to put your arms up, on my worst enemy. There was a moment where I doubted if I could make it onto the plane at all, but I managed to pull myself through.
I’m not ashamed to say I cried when the plane took off from Toronto and I’m not ashamed to say that I cried when it reached Newark either. Finally though, the nightmare was over and I was able to hop into an Uber to Brooklyn Kings Theater.
The Uber driver was playing a radio station which I quickly gathered was the American equivalent to Greatest Hits Radio back in the UK. I asked him to turn the radio volume up and we ended up singing along to so many cheesy pop hits, building quite a rapport on the hour long drive. I felt obliged to shake his hand when I left the taxi, before my friends, already in the queue, engulfed me into a group hug.
Chapter Three: So I Went To New York City…
Being in the company with my friends again felt so joyous that the hours before the first Brooklyn show melted away. I spent hours listening to what Heather had been up to in NYC whilst the rest of us were in Toronto, and she also introduced me to what a Taco Ball Cantina was.
The afternoon arrived however and I was faced with another rather severe difficulty regarding the Brooklyn box office. I’m not going to go into major detail about what happened, as I don’t want to waste my precious energy into thinking about them. How they treated Heather and I, who had quite a simple request, was the worst customer service I have ever had the misfortune of experiencing. Their treatment led to me breaking down crying whilst also trying to suppress what would have been my first panic attack in several years. We pulled through it in the end with a little help from our friends, thank goodness.
Does it sting that after experiencing all of what I did, with my flights and the box office, I could have heard ‘The Fear’ live that very same night if Jarvis had been on board with it? Yes it does. Just a little bit.
Nevertheless, after much, much stress, most of our group got to the barrier that night. With no hint of irony, the two people in our group who had paid for the ‘speakeasy’ VIP option, which promised a separate queue and early entry, are the only two that didn’t get to barrier. This was because the venue actually let in the VIP queue *after* they had let in the GA queue, if you can wrap your head round the absurdity of that. Amanda and Sab paid $55 for a disadvantage.
Escape-ism, who entertained us all throughout the tour. Photo taken by Giles Acrylic.
To add to our woes, the Kings Theatre barrier was unlike other concert barriers, as it was a solid slab rather than the usual metal rail. This made it near enough impossible to lean on the barrier for support, and also made it quite difficult to jump.
The unusual barrier gave Ian, the lead singer of Escape-ism, an opportunity to climb down from the stage and strut in front of us, singing about his wish for a hammer. He did, however, struggle to get back up onto the stage.
I’m one of the lucky few on planet Earth that can say I have seen Escape-ism live seven times. I like to think the collective experience of watching this duo take the stage night after night allowed the barrier angels to bond closer together, only because of our shared enthusiasm. Honest.
We did all truthfully appreciate the talented Sandi Denton, the other half of Escape-ism, on the keys. A solitary “go Sandi!” from Giles echoed in the quiet Kings Theatre during night one. Sandi heard, and gave an appreciative smile back to him. Believe me, he hasn’t forgotten this.
Watching on, in um… delight. Photo: Giles Acrylic.
The Pulp concert that followed was such a release. I had tears in my eyes during the first verse of I Spy, and allowed myself to intensely feel every emotion that decided to rear its head. O.U. made another appearance and sounded even better than it had in Toronto. Jarvis also pointed at me during Pink Glove, but I was too busy looking at Andrew McKinney’s new bass amps to notice. Seriously.
Still, anxiety and fear did persist to loom in the air. This was Friday the 13th, after all. Jarvis talked about spending the Christmas of 1996 alone in a Paramount Hotel room, whilst suffering from a continuous nervous breakdown. An image of the hotel flickered on the backdrop, which so far on the tour had illuminated photos of animals and other cheery topics. Jarvis asked the Brooklyn audience if he should take a visit to Times Square, a location which holds bad memories for him, and he was met with cheers of encouragement.
The reaction of the crowd as Jarvis strummed the first chords of Like A Friend was something to behold, as it had been throughout the tour, but was especially loud in Brooklyn. Unlike in the UK, Like A Friend is much more universally loved among American Pulp fans, which I can only assume is because of the film Great Expectations in which it features. I recall Giles Acrylic leaning over and whispering “they’ve finally woken up”, which was a fair observation considering how lacklustre the crowd behind us had been before now.
As the first encore rolled around, Jarvis announced that Pulp were about to treat us to another new song. This was a new song with a twist, however. This was Got To Have Love; a We Love Life demo that had never seen an official release, and as far as knew at the time, had previously been an instrumental. In some ways, this felt even more substantial compared to the new songs: surely Pulp diving through their back catalogue of lost demos only meant they were planning on releasing a new album?!
It’s such a shame we only got to hear this track once on the tour as it sounded fantastic. Still not entirely sure about the use of adjective ‘jerking’ for the lyric ‘you’re just jerking off inside someone else’ though, as it feels very American and un-Pulpy. Considering the smirk on JC’s face as he sang it, I have no doubt he knows this.
That smirk. Video by: pulp_mis_shapes
Got To Have Love will always be the defining memory of Brooklyn Night One for me. The physical setlists collected after also revealed that Pulp had the choice of playing two songs in the first song of the second encore slot: Got To Have Love, but also a mysterious, unheard number named Farmers Market? Another new song?!
We all stumbled out of the Kings Theatre, excited to see Pulp again the following day, but simultaneously not looking forward to experiencing the venue’s piss-poor management once more. I have a very hazy memory of us all stopping for McDonalds before we got back to Jocelyn’s, but I am not sure if I dreamt it as I was so unbelievably tired.
My memories of the Brooklyn Night Two queue are incredibly hazy as for most of the day I was struggling with exhaustion. I assume this was the last couple of days catching up on me. There were many points during the day where I was tempted to curl up on the incredibly dirty Brooklyn sidewalk to try and get forty winks. As the morning bled into the afternoon, a remarkable thing happened.
A man came over to ask Heather and I what show we were queueing for. This is a common occurrence when queueing early outside a venue; many onlookers or locals will be curious as to what has led you to camp out all day. We gave our answer, and he asked us where we were from. I gave him the name of the small town I’m from, and he proceeded to tell me that he had lived in a neighbouring town for over 20 years.
This may sound ordinary at first, but even after living in London for two years and mixing with so many people, I have never met anyone who is even remotely close to where I’m from. And here this man was, on a random street in Brooklyn, telling me he had lived in the neighbouring area for two decades. The shock of it all startled me and thankfully woke me up.
Foolishly, I overdressed for the weather this particular day and it wasn’t long before wearing a long-sleeve shirt in 30 degree heat proved unsustainable. Heather and I went shopping for another t-shirt as the temperature was at 30 degrees at a nearby local discount store for me to wear. As if by magic, we found a t-shirt that said ‘NYC Farmers Market’ on it. I instantly snapped this shirt up. The high degree heat proved to be a lot more manageable after that. We weren’t to hear Farmers Market during night two, but we would later on in the tour…
Farmers Market, hey? Photo taken by Heather.
All of the our group managed to get a barrier spot this time, which was a relief after the trauma of yesterday. Although less stressful than the previous night, the barrier run wasn’t without its annoyances. A security guard outside the venue, instead of actually doing his job, chose to mock the numbers on our hands and take the piss out of us all. I have never understood security at venues who make fun of fans numbering themselves; is this not making their job easier, as it stops arguments and prevents mad crowd rushes at doors? The mind boggles.
We were all gathered left-side of the stage for birthday boy Mark as well. Jocelyn, Amanda and Cecilia had all been shopping in recent days to buy an array of celebratory items for the occasion, building up quite the inventory. I was designated the job of handing out party hats to the people behind us in the queue, and on barrier, we had party whistles and a birthday banner.
The horrific treatment at Kings Theatre made us a little delirious by the time we eventually got to the barrier. Heather and I became fixated on saying “get that fooking cooker on”, a quote from TV show Max and Paddy, for no apparent reason. Sab and I were also convinced for a brief few moments that Jimmy Carr had arrived to enjoy Pulp, as there was a man directly behind us who had his exact laugh. I also heard Jocelyn and Giles laugh even harder than usual at the support act, but you didn’t hear that from me.
We had anticipated that Jarvis would mention Mark’s birthday later on in the show, perhaps at the start of the first encore, but he ended up mentioning it two songs in! That took all of us by surprise, and we had to dig out our party whistles as quick as possible. We must have looked a right group with us all wearing our hats and enthusiastically using our party whistles. The entire Brooklyn Theatre interrupted Jarvis introducing Mark to sing happy birthday to him, which was such a lovely moment.
After the crowd briefly quietened down, Jarvis explained that Mark had been allowed to pick a song for the setlist as a birthday gift, and the track he had picked was Bad Cover Version. Now, I am a big fan of BCV and would probably put it in my top 10 list of favourite Pulp songs. I’m not entirely convinced this was Mark’s first choice of song selection, though. I can imagine that it was probably quite far down the list in truth.
Excuse my poor singing, we don’t get to hear this one very often!
There had also been much barrier angel commotion at the start of this gig as well, all because of Jarvis. For those that are unaware, Jarvis has 4 suits for his onstage-wear, in 4 different colours: brown, green, black pinstripe, and blue. The green suit rarely ever makes an appearance, so much so that it became a running in-joke that Jarvis had lost the suit whilst travelling, or he had had an unfortunate accident whilst wearing it. Well, lo and behold, Jarvis emerged from behind the curtain on night two wearing the green suit.
“GREEN! GREEN! GREEN!” we all yelped in unison. What a moment.
Do You Remember The First Time? always goes down an absolute storm at every Pulp show, but I enjoyed even more than I normally do during night two in Brooklyn. I allowed myself to release all stress and go as crazy as I liked, arms flaying. If I had to pick one song out of the setlist that sums up what a Pulp show is like, DYRTFT? is what I would choose. It can never, under any circumstances, come off the setlist.
The barrier angels in our element, singing along to Babies. Video by Heather.
I noticed down the barrier later on that Cecilia had appeared to learn every word of Spike Island despite us only hearing it for the first time 5 days ago. She was singing every word so proudly, whilst holding her ‘thank you Pulp!’ banner that she had made. The dedication of Pulp fans, eh?
The end of Brooklyn Night Two marked a solemn occasion as both Heather and Cecilia were heading back to the UK and concluding their Pulp America tour adventure.
As well as our usual “hands-in” to celebrate mark the tour date location, we also orchestrated a “hands-in” for the locations our friends were flying back to. It’s funny how the things that seem small at the time become pivotal memories looking back.
As much as I was having the time of my life, I knew I needed a little bit of a break. All of my friends were either flying back home or travelling to the next concert in San Fransisco, so I had a day to myself. I decided to head into Manhattan to see the sights, and I had a glorious day. I admired all of the famous attractions, but nothing could compare to seeing the Mo Salah mural just off Times Square with my own eyes. I also made a point in exploring various record stores in an attempt to find rare Pulp records, but had no luck.
Running down the wing!
I did experience a little bit of FOMO the next day when my friends were queueing in San Fransisco and I was sat on a plane, travelling to L.A. instead. In hindsight though, I’m glad I skipped the San Fran date as I needed the time to rest and recuperate. As soon as my plane landed, I crashed in a Holiday Inn near the LAX airport and slept for 15 hours.
The flight from Newark to L.A, surprisingly, was one of the cheapest flights on the entire trip. How much I spent on my flights across America made up the majority of my spending, and they were far pricer than my flights across Europe. For my travels in the summer, I was able to get away with just taking hand luggage, but for America I took a checked luggage bag.
American airlines in particular love to add ridiculous extra fees onto checked luggage bags, and this drove up the prices of my flights exponentially. The fee of the checked luggage sometimes doubled my flight price. If I have one piece of advice on making a trip to the USA cheaper, I would suggest packing as lightly as you can and only taking hand luggage.
Expecting Pulp to bring out something like The Fear or Countdown as I wasn’t there, I had planned to stay up to hear reports from my friends about the show, but I fell asleep in the hotel before Escape-ism had even taken the stage. I nodded off whilst watching CNN’s coverage of the run-up to the presidential election, so unfortunately my dreams ended up being mostly about that.
Chapter Four: L.A: The Barrier Angels Have Taken Orange Drive Hostel
As I waited for my fellow barrier angels to arrive, Los Angeles was my oyster. I got an Uber, which happened to be a Porsche, to Sunset Boulevard. On the way, my driver cut through a petrol station to avoid the traffic, calling it his “little trick,” and then opened the Porsche’s sunroof when the L.A. skyline came into view. Was I in a movie?
I dropped my suitcase off at a luggage store space, and set off into Hollywood. I went in a vintage shop which was described as ‘small’ on Google Maps reviews but was actually a three storey labyrinth of oddly endearing graphic t-shirts and brightly coloured trousers. I ended up finding a new paisley shirt that was perfect in its Pulpyness for the first L.A. show. Since coming home, I have made a point of telling everyone who will listen that this particular shirt is from Los Angeles.
Of course, I also went in the famous Amoeba Records, which in some ways overstimulated me because of how enormous it was. Although I didn’t find anything in Amoeba, I was overjoyed to find a rare version of Chess The Musical on vinyl, in a store named As The Record Turns.
This record shop was being managed by a kind yet somewhat imposing woman, who proceeded to tell me a whole range of stories, from dining with The Beatles to being invited to work with Stevie Wonder on tour. She was also very keen to learn about me and my life in Britain.
The store had such an odd historical atmosphere, with photos of musicians visiting the shop adorning all of the walls. I wish I had more time to uncover more history, but check-in at Orange Drive Hostel called.
Just off Hollywood Boulevard, the hostel was incredibly respectful for its price. It had its quirks; for some reason, there was a rather large Shrek plush toy in the reception area, and a vending machine in the communal kitchen that looked like it hadn’t been cleaned in about a decade. It had so much charm. This hostel will always be so synonymous with my Pulp LA adventure, and I hope to make it back there one day.
Somebody once told me the world is gonna roll me…
Saying that though, we were all incredibly jealous of the castle hotel that looked like it belonged in Disneyland, just opposite our hostel. Most of us were jealous, anyway. I’m sure Giles made a comment on how gentrified it looked but I was too busy admiring the castle to notice.
I was sharing my room with Robin, who had joined our barrier angel crew in San Fransisco and was doing two dates on this tour. We had briefly met earlier on in the year when she had come over to London in April, and I was so excited to experience a Pulp show with her.
Before we turned in for the night, we went out for dinner at Mel’s Diner. It was at this diner that I was served the largest glass of Coca Cola I have ever seen. I couldn’t finish it. Sab and I were also excited to learn that we sat at the booth that had a Lana Del Rey jukebox, but unfortunately neither of us had the change on us that was needed to select a song.
Look at this absolute unit!
Ricardo brought to the queue a very tiny fold-up chair, that at first looked uncomfortable but was in fact incredibly useful. We all took it in turns to use this chair and rest our aching muscles. If my memory remembers rightly I think it was nicknamed the queue throne. After sitting on pavements for large parts of the day for two weeks, this chair was like free physical therapy.
It was also in Los Angeles that Jocelyn perfected her impression of Ian Svenonius, the lead singer of Escape-ism. There is a video of this impression but I’m not including it here to preserve the magic of it. You’ll just have to be lucky enough to perhaps hear Jocelyn do it in person, as it really is uncanny.
Following on from yesterday, I was also given a further insight into the cornerstones of America, as Jocelyn and Robin took me on my first ever Trader Joe’s trip. I was mortified that there was such a vast selection of pumpkins to choose from upon entry to the shop, when we were still over a month away from Halloween, but I was pleasantly surprised at how cheap everything seemed to be. Above all else, Trader Joe’s will be remembered for its code to the toilets: 11206.
Upon arriving back to the queue, I gave my review: “Trader Joe’s is a lot like Iceland.” This made both the Brit and the Americans very confused. It was only a few hours later that I realised I hadn’t explained to Robin that I was referring to the UK supermarket Iceland, not the country.
Ready for night one!
Time flies when you’re being inaugurated into American life, and it wasn’t long before it was time for doors once more. Thankfully, I can’t fault the Hollywood Palladium. Although Toronto History was definitely more modern and chic, the Palladium was my favourite venue of the tour. After the horrors of Brooklyn, I wanted (needed) a relatively stress-free time regarding venue etiquette and staff, and I couldn’t have dreamt up a better experience.
Just before doors, the staff member on my door scanned my ticket so I could make a run to barrier without fuss. The security staff were keen for us all on barrier to have a bottle of water before the show even started, and they were more than happy to oblige when asked to take group photos of us all.
Jocelyn emerged back to the barrier after a brief absence with a copy of I’m With Pulp Are You?, the newly released book by Mark. We had all been trying to secure a copy across the tour, but because we were only able to get to the merchandise stand after the show ended, they were often sold out by the time we got there. With no ulterior motive in mind, I asked Jocelyn how much she had paid for her copy, and when she gave me the answer of $55, I ran to the merchandise stand. Having now read Mark’s book, I can say that it is a fabulous piece of work.
Before Pulp took to the stage, we were also greeted with a Red Bull trolley being wheeled along the barrier, serving energy drinks and tequila. Robin decided to take the plunge and buy a shot that was served up in a test tube. Halfway through drinking it, she turned to me and said, with a slight hint of worry in her voice, “It’s strong Ester. It’s very, very strong.”
Robin buying her test tube of tequila. Photo taken by Giles Acrylic.
It was when I got back to barrier that we realised so many of us were actually featured in the book! The photo that Mark took during Hammersmith Night One featured in one of the end pages. We were officially printed in Pulp’s history forevermore. It felt perfect that we all found that out whilst on barrier.
The eye of the storm…
Mis-Shapes made a return to the setlist in the rotational 3rd song slot, having been absent from the American tour setlist for quite some time. This was an interesting move as it also got pulled out during night two in the second encore. I do love this song live and think it is superior to the studio version, but it is a track that I could give or take when devising my dream Pulp setlist.
Robin had experienced the San Fransisco date which I was not present at, but she stated after the gig that the L.A. Night One was a far superior concert. I loved being next to her on the barrier because it was so lovely to watch so many of the big-hitters, such as This Is Hardcore and DYRTFT? through her eyes. In some ways, it felt like experiencing a Pulp concert for the first time all over again.
L.A. night one was when we also heard the beautiful Farmers Market for the first time, a tender ballad that Jarvis dedicated to his wife Kim, who was present in the audience. Jarvis was keen to emphasise that despite the song’s title and the dedication, the newly weds didn’t actually first meet on a farmers market. Just when one thinks Jarvis has put his class divide angst to bed, it once again rears its ugly head. This was followed up by an electrifying Monday Morning, which gave us all a jolt after swooning over JC’s lyrics about mushy feeeeeeel-ings.
I don’t have any footage of Farmers Market to share as I was FaceTiming Heather, who had arrived safely back in the UK and had stayed up through the night to hear any tour debuts or new songs. Her text to me after the FaceTime perfectly summed up my feelings towards the new song: “that were quite good, weren’t it?”
I was chuffed about managing to obtain a setlist from security on this night, and walked back with both Mark’s book and a setlist in tow. Due to L.A.’s subway system refusal to catch up with modernity, I ended up not paying for my fare and evaded the ticket barrier. Oops. Some of us, namely Giles Acrylic, chose to go back outside and run the distance back to the hostel, instead of taking the subway. I turned around and he was suddenly sprinting in the other direction. It did pay off though as he was waiting for us at the station by the time we eventually pulled in.
So, I snuggled down, ready for my final queueing early start tomorrow. When, all of a sudden, I hear what sounds like Jarvis talking on the other side of the wall. And then he repeats the same thing again, and (backward rewind) again. I quickly realised this was not (surprisingly) actually Jarvis in Orange Drive Hostel but Giles Acrylic in the kitchen editing his videos to post on his Instagram for L.A. Night One. He has apologised more than once for the noise but he doesn’t need to; it’s a hilarious memory that will stick with me forever, and symbolic of how the Pulp fans had taken over the hostel.
The next morning rolls around all too quickly. I’m saying bye to my roommate Robin, who, despite my endless persuasion to stay for night two, is flying back home today. It’s also my last Pulp show of the tour. I decide to go the full hog for the final show, getting down to the venue at an early 9am. I made the rather stupid decision of listening to Glory Days on my trip down to the venue, which gave my tear ducts some early excerise.
These are still our Glory Days…
Maybe it was the L.A. air, or perhaps it was the exhaustion setting in, but I think by night two we were all getting a bit more delirious, and our day-queue activities were becoming a little more strange. For example, Giles Acrylic was humming the first verse of Love Is Blind for such a large part of the day that I almost became convinced he’d manifest it into reality.
We also briefly tried our hand at becoming a makeshift Pulp tribute band. I was (I think) the orchestrator, Jocelyn was on drums, Sab was on bass and Giles was on guitar. I made them perform Lipgloss. Just typing this out has made me realise how deranged we were all getting. This is evidently what over 60 hours of queueing on piss covered pavements across a two week period does to you. I thought though, as chief orchestrator, my friends performed the chorus of Lipgloss to quite a high standard.
The constant departures of barrier angels from the tour did somewhat resemble evictions from the Big Brother house. We were a declining team and with this being both mine and Giles Acrylic’s last show, the team would be halved for the Hollywood Forever Cemetery Gig.
Yet, this was not the time to be solemn. It was our Jarv’s birthday after all. We didn’t have any birthday banners or whistles this time on barrier, blame tour fatigue, but we were very intrigued to see how a Jarvis birthday show would unfold.
“It’s my birthday, which means I’m allowed to be a brat on stage today. Some band members would say that occurs all of the time anyway” Jarvis declared, after Pulp had greeted the crowd with an amazing rendition of I Spy, as ever. Oh, we were in for a treat.
I imagine it’s rare to truly shock Jarvis Branson Cocker, but I do think that is what happened just before Disco 2000. Jarvis engaged the crowd in his ‘magic clapping’, which usually preludes Mark’s iconic riff. “1, 2, 3, 4” *clap clap clap* “pause! 1, 2, 3, 4”. To the shock of Jarvis and of us all on barrier, instead of hearing the guitar riff, we heard the start of Happy Birthday To You playing instead. Liam Rippon, Pulp tour manager, came slowly walking on stage with a mutli-layered chocolate cake.
This cake had been decorated especially for Jarvis, as it had a Walk of Fame star on top and his name had been printed within the star.
Happy birthday, dear Jarvis..
Jarvis’ birthday present, he announced to us all after Disco 2000, was that he would be allowed to tell the crowd the backstory of every song before Pulp started playing them. We of course heard the run of the mill stories, such as the backstory to Babies, and JC’s introduction to Weeds didn’t seem to differ from what he normally says in his pre-amble.
I did however, learn some things, my favourite being that it was actually Candida that had come up with the name for the song Pink Glove. Jarvis also spoke at length about how the song This Is Hardcore came to pass which, unsurprisingly, involved two binge drinking sessions and two subsequent hangovers.
Somewhat embarrassingly, it took me seven shows on the Pulp UK tour last year to *not* cry during Common People. I thought I had put that behind me but it was L.A. Night Two where I cried during it again. I don’t know what it was about this particular performance, precisely. Maybe it was the fact I had all of my friends jumping alongside me, or perhaps it was the last time I would hear it live for a while. Probably both. By the end, I was a mess.
Balloons into the crowd for the birthday boy Jarv.
I love this clip. I love my favourite band.
None of us wanted to leave the venue, more so than normal. We were eventually ‘ushered’ (nearly forcibly removed) by staff, so we all made our way round to the Hollywood Palladium stage door.
I had never done stage door after a concert before, so I didn’t really know what to expect. In all honesty, I felt a bit nervy about it all. Candida made her way down the line of fans who had gathered, taking time to speak with everyone properly. I remember how our conversation started so vividly:
Me: “Hi! I wanted to say thank you so much for all of the concer-”
Candida: “Are you Ester? The famous Ester?”
Me: “well…yes.”
Candida: “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you!”
How do you even begin to process such an interaction? Candida then informed me I was known by “everyone” and thanked me for following so much of the tour. What meant the most to me though is she also told me that I get the crowd going. I like to go crazy at Pulp shows, jumping through near enough every song, as that’s how I like to show my appreciation back to the band, so that was nice to hear.
Nick also came over to me. I thanked him first of all for everything, as he had been a great help with any logistical issues that had arisen for me across the tour. He then proceeded to tease that, because I wasn’t going to be at the Hollywood Forever Cemetery Gig, Pulp would be playing songs that they hadn’t played in years; particularly the ones about death or with death in the title. I told him not to start.
I felt a bit sorry for Jason Buckle as nobody waiting at stage door (apart from the barrier angels) seemed to recognise him, and if others did they weren’t giving him any attention. Jason had done such a spectacular job on this leg of the tour, and I wanted to thank and congratulate him for his fantastic efforts. Unfortunately though, I didn’t get the chance.
If the opportunity had arose, I would have told him how much I love the work of Relaxed Muscle too. Throughout the tour, Jarvis was keen to introduce Jason as “one half of Relaxed Muscle”. Evidently, the divisive side project is still at the forefront of Jarvis’ mind. The campaign for a one off reunion gig in 2025 starts here.
Nick signed the crown he had thrown out to me, as did Candida. I only realised later when I got back to the hostel that Candida had wrote to ‘our Ester’ along with her signature.
Epilogue: Santa Monica
“Do you want to go to Santa Monica?” Giles Acrylic turned around and asked Jocelyn, Sab and I. We were all sat in Ricardo’s car, and initially the plan had been for him to drop us all off at our hostel. Of course, we all said yes without hesitation. Ricardo drove us down Hollywood Boulevard as Sheffield: Sex City blasted from his stereo. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so high on life.
Ricardo had an endless collection of songs downloaded onto his car stereo, which meant we were spoilt for choice on what to collectively sing along to. I know it sounds cheesy and cliche, but those few hours spent with my friends, driving through deserted L.A. roads in the midnight hour, were some of the best hours of my life.
Of course, we cued up a lot of Pulp. We started with Intro but then went into what felt appropriate: Joyriders, Pink Glove, Disco 2000. We were even able to cue up live version of particular songs, such as the performance of Live Bed Show from Pulp’s televised 1996 Munich concert that, importantly, has the gorgeous extra verse.
I didn’t even grumble at my friends wanting to play a couple of Blur tracks. I may have even actually enjoyed hearing Blur that night, which is something that hasn’t, and won’t ever, happen again.
We all got out of the car and admired the coastline for a brief moment. We could hear the saccharine waves of the sea ebbing and flowing and there was a soft breeze in the air. Everything seemed so calm and tranquil, almost dream-like, until behind me I hear…
“It’s the fucking radio edit!”
I quickly realised this was the voice of Jocelyn, who was reacting to the radio edit version of Motorcycle Emptiness by Manic Street Preachers playing in the still running parked car. It was such a hilarious moment that I think is going to stay with me for the rest of my days. I’ve promised Jocelyn that the next time I see her in person, I’m going to greet her not with “hello”, but with “its the fucking radio edit!”
After deciding it was too dangerous to head down to the sea due to the steep incline, we all hopped back into the car and drove forth to the Santa Monica Pier itself. The pier was deserted in the midnight hour, and looked incredibly beautiful. Every building looked like it belonged in an American movie from yesteryear. None of what we were experiencing felt real.
I think it was Jocelyn that had the brilliant idea of putting her phone camera on timer so we could all pose like this in front of the Santa Monica Route 66 sign. I love this photo so much. I have it framed and it sits proudly on my desk.
“We’re like a five-a-side team!”
The drive back to our hostel of course included lots more carpool karaoke. I did a Acquiesce duet with Giles (he insisted on being Noel, I was Liam) and I studied with close intent as Jocelyn showed me when to vigorously point during Suede songs. We ended the night on Bar Italia as Ricardo drove us back up Hollywood Boulevard to our hostel. Looking back on that night now, it really does feel like a collective dream.
We all shared Giles’ pitta bread and humus leftovers in the hostel kitchen, as we processed everything that had just happened before turning in for the night. I think we were told to quieten down at one point by the hostel manager as were being a bit too loud at 3 in the morning. Orange Drive Hostel felt like Pulp bootcamp.
The next day, we decided to head up Griffith Observatory, as a final farewell celebration with the four of us all together. This was predictably spectacular; the views of Los Angeles were stunning.
We stood for a while around the famous Foucault Pendulum, waiting for it to knock one of its pegs down. The fact we all agreed this was like waiting at barrier once more demonstrates how we were all mentally still in tour mode.
Jocelyn, Sab and I: ready for the front cover of the NME. Photo taken by Giles Acrylic.
All too quickly, we were back down from the Observatory and the fateful moment had arrived. It was time for me to say goodbye to my beloved fellow barrier angels. I’ve said it once already but it bares repeating: following Pulp across America wouldn’t have been the same without them. I wouldn’t have had half as much fun, and they all kept me sane. I will always be thankful to Pulp for introducing me to such brilliant, talented, amazing life-long friends.
I made my Uber driver honk his car horn as I left my friends on the sidewalk, waving to them through the window as I departed. I was expecting to feel a lot more solemn than I did on the drive back to the airport. Instead, all I felt was gratitude. I didn’t really have time to feel sad anyway as my Uber driver was incredibly similar to Borat. He even phoned up his Aunt on Facetime at one point, stating that his passenger had “been all around America! All around America! From England! For a band called Ploolp!”
“Get a photo of LAX! To show your friends back home!”
I find it near impossible to sleep on public transport most of the time, so I spent the majority of the 10 hour flight back to London thinking about everything that had happened over the past couple of weeks. I went into what can only be described as a sleep coma when I got back home, but woke up to find that Pulp had not in fact played anything new at Hollywood Forever Cemetery. Thank christ.
Even now, 2 months on, I can’t wrap my head around everything. I’ll be doing the dishes (no pun intended) and remember that I’ve actually heard O.U. live, or I’ll remember something Jarvis said that made us all on barrier fall into hysterics.
America’s a big, daunting place; that goes without saying. I experienced many challenges on this trip, but I’d it all again in a heartbeat. Only with my friends by my side, though. I couldn’t imagine tour life without them.
Who knows what the future holds for Pulp? I’m not even sure they know. After what we heard and observed on the American leg though, I think a lot of us are very optimistic about the future. The band play like a well-oiled machine, the ‘touring’ members have become so settled, and most importantly, everyone looks happy to be performing. I think it’s been a long time since we’ve been able to say that. We’ve heard the new songs too, they’re all brilliant, and who knows how many more there are to come.
I often found myself, on the plane back home, wishing I could build a time machine so I could go back in time and tell 16 year old me, who so often used Pulp’s music as their only escape, everything that was to happen. I used to want a time machine to experience a Pulp past, but now I want one so I can tell young me about their Pulp future. I’ve had, and I’ve got, a Pulp future. It’s still unbelievable to even think about.
Like Pulp do for most of their shows on the Encore tour, I’m going to conclude this blog post with a performance of Glory Days. If you’ve read this far, bloody hell. You clearly have a lot of time to kill. But that means we’re both of a very similar kind and love Pulp far too much. The Pulp future is owned by you and me.
No one but you, no one but you, no one but you…
THANK YOU’S:
Thank you to all of my barrier angels: Heather, for going to Pulp Manchester and becoming one of my closest friends in the entire world. We have a right laugh.
Sab for introducing me to the world of Australian dialect, the Aurora app, and for being my pink glove throwing practicing partner. We’ll always have Taranto!
Jocelyn for your never-ending supply of *black* (and only black) sharpie pens and for your incredibly generous offer of hospitality during the Brooklyn shows.
Please, both of you, visit the UK soon! I miss my friends!
Thank you to Giles Acrylic- without your words of inspiration at a car boot, this post would have never been written. You inspire me everyday, and your friendship has helped me re-find my impetus to embark on Pulp archivist adventures and to write again.
Thank you to Robin for being my L.A. roomie- I promise we’ll hear Supernature in a live setting sometime soon. Thank you to Cecilia for always standing on business and quite frankly, being a ray of sunshine. Thank you to Amanda for all of the cool Pulp memorabilia that you made, before and during tour!
Thank you to Ricardo for driving us all down to Santa Monica beach and giving us such a memorable night. I’m sure our paths will cross again in the near future.
Thank you to all of my Pulp friends I have not mentioned here but are all amazing, incredible people.
Thank you to all of the tour crew that slugged around America to make this leg possible.
Thank you to Pulp Wiki for providing lyrics of the new songs on their website.
And of course, thank you to all of Pulp. Where would we all be without you?
sitting on a tram rn, crying reading this. ily <333333
Pulpquake 5000