There’s something about the solo album that inspires dread: so often the solo effort is a horrible mistake: a mish-mash of pretension, grand-standing and (if you happened to be a member of The Who for example) 100% prime suckage. As such, I approach the new album from Pulp’s front man with some trepidation.

As if that wasn’t enough, I’m not even a Pulp purist: I was aware of them when they were signed to (The Great) Fire (of London) records, and while I adored some of their lyrical qualities ("Little girl with blue eyes/there’s a hole in your heart/and one between your legs/guess which one they are going to fill"), I owned maybe a couple of their albums at most. I really only picked up on them with the release of “Different Class,” with it’s perfect blend of smart, sinful and sarcastic in a pop music masterpiece. Following D.C., I did go back and buy up the back catalogue, but still, some albums just didn’t work for me. Too complex maybe? Too difficult? It’s clear (and became more so on “This is Hardcore") that Pulp was not interested in being anyone else’s idea of what a band should be.

But again, this brings to mind the question why make a solo album: it seems like the band makes a perfectly good vehicle. Hell, if a new band was called for, pulling a Mark E. Smith number and replacing the entire backing group would have worked.

So, like I said, trepidation.

I deliberately avoided pre-reviews, interviews, press releases--anything that I thought would possibly color my interpretation of the work--trying to find a moment of purity, a solid foundation.

The album opens slyly: the first track “The Loss Adjuster (Part One)” runs for 27 instrumental seconds--heavy, dirgeful piano. The theme is picked up by the real opener: “Don’t Let Him Waste Your Time.” It’s almost impossible not to hear Jarvis’s unique voice and think of Pulp. It’s true he’s not a great “pure” vocal talent, but he is instantly recognizable and well suited to his material. “Don’t...” is a nice opener, although it’s maybe a little too much of an album track. Lyrically, filthy. Musically, a few different instruments (horns of some type? synth?) from the usual lineup.

“Black Magic” takes more of a psycho-pop tone than the rockier opener. Sparse, almost lo-fi, basic… Again, some new instruments show up (tubular bells, Foetus style guitar). The vocal structure is once again simple, repetitive. I’d have cut the final 45 seconds or so, as the tail end is just played out a little too far to no real purpose. At this point, it’s difficult to know what to expect next, there’s no sign of a deliberate flow to the pieces. “Heavy Weather” opens with thunder storm sound effects, and migrates into another lo-fi almost-love-song before hitting it’s pace and picking up tempo. This helix of fast to slow repeats; the lyric sticks true to the title (cold fronts, storms coming through, no cliche left unturned)--a little more juvenile poetry than usual, but not strictly bad or twee. I can see this being a great live track.

Titles alone point to a not very happy album--"I Will Kill Again,” for example, doesn’t sound like a great dance track. And it’s not. It’s almost a torch song, with Jarvis playing the part of either a serial killer or perhaps reaching for a less literal reading of relationships and their inevitable endings ... wishing for a world in which no-one dies, or if they do they die, they do so from boredom. Of the tracks thus far, this one is a standout in terms of lyric, pacing and fit to the voice. Ah, but it’s a sad song and who isn’t a sucker for one of those?

“Baby’s Coming Back To Me” hints at maybe a happier note in name at least, and indeed carries forward much of the same longing and emotion as “I Will...”. Another sparse instrumental, simple drum rhythm, some xylophone, some reed instrument (I’m not good at picking up what is what). Overall, the song reports as much on the down aspects of a return, making no progress, retreading old ground. Not so much with the clever in the lyric this time, and better for it.

Back to a more rock feel for “Fat Children,” and back also to a more whimsical lyric, bemoaning the ugly aspects of parenthood, and a stream of consciousness rant that makes as much sense as most any pop record. Probably the lead single. Again, there’s a portion in the middle third that is unnecessary and would have hit the editing floor had I been involved. But I wasn’t, so blah.

If there’s an underlying theme to “Why this is not a Pulp album” it would be that the musical arrangements are very much simple, almost background. Even on the rockier/poppier tunes, there’s a slight muffling of music compared to voice. It’s unusual, but effective. “From Auschwitz to Ipswich” is a brave title, and the theme of the song is bleak. For all that modern life has to offer, it’s basically rubbish and we fill our time with pointless activities. Jarvis out-sads the Mozfather easily. The segue to the follow-up track “Disney Time” is obvious, and indeed many of the same concepts are explored in this lyric. Over the top string arrangements emphasis that perhaps some of this is tongue in cheek, but it’s nicely vague on that point.

“Tonite” picks up lyrically from “Sorted for E’s and Whiz” (Different Class) as a love song to drugs and sex and boredom. “Somebody falls in love; somebody falls from a windowsill.” Wistful, ironic, derisive, and haunting all at once. A fine tune, good for the last dance of the evening if you are hoping to get your end away.

“Big Julie” opens with a rather pointless spoken word introduction, then develops into a precise character study. You can replace “Big Julie” with “Fat Jerry” and the song still works. Like so many of his observed subjects, Julie envisages a better, brighter future--albeit an impossible one.

“The Loss Adjuster (Part Two) ends the song cycle for the album proper, and opens space for the experimental “Quantum Theory"--which reads like nothing less than a Cocker summoning of Carl Sagan. Blending subtle guitar work, sparse echo, whispered background vocals, approaching an ethereal mood. Ending on an eternal moment of hope “Everything is going to be alright” at 4:40 in, you wonder what the next 30 minutes of the track will be: turns out to be the far too often used gimmick of silence, at least until the last 4:20 which kicks in the rejoinder “Cunts are still running the world"--the only really political song on the album, it’s vitriol sung prettily to a jazzy background. It’s a great end to the album (or it would be, if it wasn’t for that perverse 25 minutes of nothing).

In summary: it’s a fine work. It’s short (in terms of number of tracks), and overall consistent. It does focus mainly on highlighting the vocal skills (and limitations) of Jarvis, and yes it is a love it or hate it voice. It’s also clearly a progression from the later Pulp albums which had lost some cohesion and drive. Well worth a listen, breaking the mold of bad solo albums with style and panache. Now, to edit out that damn silence…

Update: I was going to post a link to Amazon so you could buy it and hear little samples, only to find out it’s an import and will set you back almost $30.00. It’s still a fine album, so if you do have spare cash to spend there’s no reason not to. Also, the “gap” in the final track is to “hide” the previous myspace ditty “Rule the world"--while that makes sense, it’s still just nasty and tacky and unnecessary.