Do you remember the first time?: Pulp at Tramlines.
Hamish Yewdall.
“Are you seeing Pulp at Tramlines?” That’s been the question on every Sheffielder’s lips since November. Tickets have been hard to come by, so those who were lucky have been jumping around the city’s living rooms for joy.
As I walk through Hillsborough with my mates I get that excited tingly stomach feeling. You know something special is about to happen here tonight.
Happy National Poetry day! ✍️ Throwing it back to when John Cooper Clarke joined us on Breakfast to share his marvellous poem all about Sheffield. Listen to our Way With Words season on @BBC Sounds #bbc6music #johncooperclarke #nationalpoetrymonth #nationalpoetryday #poetry #poetrytok
Dr John Cooper Clarke
“Sheffield, it’s got to be
John Cooper Clarke
For their big homecoming Pulp invited a number of friends to join them, and we get to the festival early to catch John Cooper Clarke. The punk-poet is back in Sheffield, and he’s brought with him a bag stuffed full of poetry. As he delves into this treasure trove he entertains the crowd with stories and jokes. We hang on his every word – laughing, joining in on reprises, cheering throughout his ‘Sheffield’ ode. An icon and an absolute master of his craft.
Baxter Dury
Sheffield, I can’t communicate how much I love you, so everybody scream
Baxter Dury
The sun begins to tickle the back of my neck. I’m loaded up on loaded fries, and it’s almost uncomfortably warm – not that the heat seems to be any concern to Baxter. The cockney geezer struts the stage, pulling open his shirt, grinning at the crowd. Then he lunges in a way that I’m surprised his suit trousers allow. Maybe he gets them made specially.
His set is slowly turning up the temperature – and not just Dury’s moves. The band start out cool and chilled but get funkier and funkier, while Baxter delivers his surreal spoken songs. The set ends on ‘Baxter (these are my friends)’, the tune Dury produced with Fred Again. By this point the music has gone from funk to house. “Let’s dance again shall we,” croons Baxter – as if the crowd needed any invitation.
Lisa O’Neil
Fred Again to folk is a hard pivot, but I’m here for it. l wasn’t sure how a folk act like Lisa O’Neil would land at a festival like Tramlines, but I forgot the power folk music has to tell stories that people resonate with. Lisa O’Neil is a powerful storyteller: songs about opposing fascism and deindustrialisation get huge cheers in the crowd, particularly ‘Rock the Machine’. The song was written about the decline of work in Dublin harbour, but O’Neill says it’s also about what happened to Sheffield in the seventies and eighties, as well as what’s happening now with AI.
Hot Chip
Bass and beats reverberate around the T’other Stage tent, and we’re in full rave mode. Everyone is dancing… then we hear “laid back… laid back” being faded into the mix. The entire tent leans its head back in unison to sing, “Over and over, like a monkey with a miniature cymbal.”
Fat White Family
I’m dripping in sweat, the entire stage is washed in blood red lighting, psych rock riffs out, and Lias is screaming down the microphone. In other words, the Fat Whites are in full force. For a band that set out to create inaccessible music, they’ve ended up with a lot of banging tunes. They sound fantastic in this sweaty tent on a Friday night.
Pulp
We are Pulp. I won’t remember all your names so can I call you Tramlines, or Sheffield?
Jarvis Cocker
Jarvis Cocker always delights in taking the crowd on a journey. Tonight we’re visiting a place we all know well: Sheffield. Together we’re walking the steel streets, with Jarvis pointing out the places where Pulp grew up.
Jarvis takes us on a trip to The Limit, a nightclub he used to frequent. He says at midnight the music would change and people would ask strange questions (cue ‘Sorted for E’s & Wizz’).
The cheers haven’t faded when the intro to ‘Disco 2000’ kicks in. This is a riff that should be up there with rock’s great guitar riffs: ‘You Really Got Me’, or ‘Smoke On the Water’. Because you know the song instantly from the first bars, and your emotive response is pure wildness.
Pulp are joined on stage by Richard Hawley. Together they play a song for the first time ever live, ‘Last Day of the Miners’ Strike’. The song is about the impact of pit closures on communities in Sheffield, but it’s also about socialism and the north rising again. Accompanied by posters and photos from the miners’ strike, it’s a poignant and powerful moment, especially with the news breaking earlier in the week of an inquiry into Orgreave.
if anyone can help, we still need that blue plaque out the front taking down
“At this point in the gig we ask the audience when our first gig was,” says Jarvis. “Our first time in Sheffield was…?”
“The Leadmill.”
“Yes. And if anyone can help, we still need that blue plaque out the front taking down.“
This leads perfectly to ‘Do You Remember the First Time?’ – another classic that gets the entire crowd singing along.
It wasn’t just the classics: a lot of songs off the new album More feature in the set, and the band open with lead single ‘Spike Island’. New single ‘Tina’ tells the story of a Sheffield girl Jarvis had a crush on (“She may even be here tonight”) while ‘Got to Have Love’ seems perfect for a festival, with its house music-style and positive message.
But needless to say there was one song that was bigger and louder than the rest. There are many great songs from Sheffield or about Sheffield, but ‘Common People’ must be the city’s anthem. The thousands of us common people in Hillsborough Park sing it from our chests with pride.
Did this gig live up to the hype? Yes, absolutely. Pulp celebrated Sheffield perfectly, from its landmarks to the city’s politics. And most importantly, it celebrated the city’s people. As Dr John Cooper Clarke put it, “Sheffield it’s got to be.”