Short cuts
Jul 31, 2022
1 minute
arvis Cocker interrupts his solo music career, which is still delivering great albums, for 350 pages of reminiscences about his Sheffield youth and the early days of his band, Pulp, which is not only Pulp non-fiction, it’s an aide-memoire memoir. Cocker uses various items – ancient bars of soap, jumble sale shirts, band paraphernalia – he’s crammed into an attic space as anecdote-triggers. It’s impressive how the book design encapsulates all that stuff while evoking an op-shop mustiness. But Cocker Marie Kondo-ing his loft makes for less-than-immediate rock autobiography. It’s all a bit tidy.
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