‘Different Class’ by Pulp is about to turn 30 years old, and is still more relevant than ever
Roll back the clock a few years, I was just a scruffy, awkward kid from London standing in a classroom surrounded by half-broken music instruments with a singing teacher arm’s length away from me. He told me that I reminded him of Jarvis Cocker of Pulp, to which I sang ‘Common People’ for the first time without a clue about what it meant or who this ‘Cocker’ guy was. That was my first memory of Different Class. One that’s stuck with me ever since, it’s an affirmation, maybe it’s not so bad being an outsider.
To me, the 1990s seemed like a howling time for a rock revival of ’60s based songwriting with groups such as Oasis, Blur and The Verve pioneering this style while still carrying a fresh, modern outlook on Britain which is still popular with gen-z today with many latching onto this Britpop aesthetic and feeling nostalgia for this time they weren’t around for. One group from this era, however, that stands out to me is Pulp, with their quirky instrumentation reminiscent of their Sheffield formers The Human League and a unique approach to songwriting mixing witty yet thoughtful insights on British pop culture, class division, sexuality and supermarkets.
Cocker intelligently sets up the landscape for this album with the track ‘Mis-Shapes’, a “call to arms” according to drummer Nick Banks. This track sets the tone for the record and gives an insight into their early life, feeling on the outskirts, something that resonated with me. It sets a level-playing ground with the listener, and says to me that although they may look different to everyone else, perhaps slightly flamboyant, they aren’t any “better” than them, they’re just a group of lads from Sheffield, “raised on a diet of broken biscuits”.
The idea that they were the misfits of Britpop drew me in, they wanted to shake up the “laddish” scene that Britpop was known for with a fresh glam-esque vibrancy which is comforting especially now with the Oasis reunion being the talk of the town and three stripes on every corner, this track reminds me that it’s fine to not to subscribe to the Gallagher appreciation society and rather I can be the shy, awkward kid deep down rather than masking it with faux masculinity.
This sentiment still applies today stronger than ever, it’s empowering to all the kids today who are afraid to stand out, it’s a free pass to be whoever you want to be, wherever you’re from – a very forward-thinking view to be held in the ’90s when “Cool Britannia” was tinted by misogyny and homophobia.
Cocker and co keep the party going with tracks like ‘Disco 2000’, a piece with great significance to me, with my mum being called Deborah, and it always being a good laugh when it comes on. It conveys a sense of yearning, an emotion that many gen-zers are hung up on and reflects the very real problem that many young men have with their love-lives, not feeling adequate for the women they fancy as reflected in Cocker’s line “Oh, the boys all loved you but I was a mess”.
“If you’ve ever been bullied, called a weirdo, hit, spat at for being, looking, or feeling different… this is your tune!”
Nick Banks
This upbeat, sing-along tune relieves this audience of young men today perhaps who feel weighed down by their upbringing, and has a despairing undertone with the chorus suggesting that Cocker and his love-interest will end up meeting in the year 2000, however by then they’ll already be old and the youthful infatuation will no longer have the same spark. This is a vulnerable moment Cocker shares with many of us in this new generation, especially all of the current young self-declared “hopeless romantics” looking for love.
However, the genius of this album lies in the track ‘Common People’, which solidifies the concept of being in a Different Class. This was an anthem for a generation of working-class Britons in the ’90s, but it has found a new audience with the working-class Gen-Z finding that the lyrics reflect their livelihood verbatim and act as a catharsis for their anger. I have noticed that there is a large gap culturally nowadays in youth-centric social environments, especially in universities with many small-town kids making their way to big cities and then subsequently mixing with private school graduates to experience a culture shock, and come to terms with their lack of privilege.
Meanwhile, the ones who have money try to downplay their financial situation in order to blend in with the working-class crowd which Cocker points out when he says “Pretend you got no money” to which the girl who represents middle England, although from Greece responds “Oh, you’re so funny”. This positions the working-class struggle as a joke, yet it is very real to many, as Cocker remarks, “Well, I can’t see anyone else smiling in here”.
Cocker makes the working-class feel important again, no longer outcasts and waves the commoner’s flag, taking back his people’s pride, allowing them to feel at home. These members of Gen-Z feel they have to resort to a lifestyle consisting of having to “dance and drink and screw because there’s nothing else to do”. This is more than just a line, Cocker is exposing the lack of opportunities accessible to working-class young people, it’s desperate, but to many, it’s all they have. The song has also experienced a second life on social media, with many youngsters expressing their love-hate relationship with where they grew up and their experiences with the song playing in the background.
What I find most ironic about the journey of this song is that it was recently performed at Pulp’s surprise guest appearance at Glastonbury. From their humble beginnings in Sheffield, it has reached the masses, mainly appealing to working-classes, however it has now also reached the audience that they might have not initially anticipated as a large gathering of primarily middle-class southerners sung this anthem which hilariously makes a dig at them and how they think class is all a big joke, further highlighting the exclusivity of festivals like Glastonbury when it should be the younger generation, especially the ones with less money out enjoying music, belting out this anthem which resonates with them more than anyone in Somerset this year.
What’s great about Pulp is that they don’t need to push this classic album any more as a new generation has found it and it has resonated effortlessly. We’re given a sense of honour to be who we are, while being presented with a collection of songs that still sound as fresh as they did on release day. Different Class was an album that gave the commoner a sense of belonging in the ’90s, but the spirit of the record still lives on today, providing the youth with self-assurance. You could say that it’ll always live in a “different class” from any other musical offering from the Britpop era, as its legacy still effortlessly waves its flag today.
