Maturity is a tricky thing for pop stars. There’s nothing more ridiculous than a middle-aged, culturally relevant millionaire spouting verses about teenage romance and frustrated lust. But on the other hand, you don’t really want to hear the idols of your youth opining on tax strategies and expensive schooling options for their offspring. Jarvis Cocker, here in his first album as Pulp in a quarter century, navigates this difficulty with skill. He still oozes rock star charisma (“I was born to perform/It's a calling/I exist to do this/Shouting and pointing” from “Spike Island . . .
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