"There was no coat-check, so we wore out dreams out on the dance floor. We danced so hard, got so hot that they fused to us all. We thought we were just jokin', trying dreams on for size. We never realised we'd be stuck with them for the rest of our natural lives." Fuck. Jarvis Cocker's talents haven't wilted since the 90s, and much of this reads as his lyrical peak since Common Sense. He's old now, and maybe soon you will be too. This album encourages it, still wistful about what's been left behind in the move. Listen to this album, and then listen again. And then order your Tesco shop.

There almost seems to be nothing harder than writing a 'legacy' album as a band. Balancing the line between continuing their unique sound that fans crave and striking out and making something new and original is more than a challenge. Countless other bands have made lacklustre replicas of their previous hits that could be mistaken as forgotten b-sides. Pulp almost escapes from that trap with More with their endeavour to acknowledge that the past is behind them, while still emulating their classic sound. If nothing else, it's a strong effort.

"Nobody wants to grow up". There's a lot to this album. I admit I started out sceptical about what it would be after listening to Spike Island, but it really brought me back around quickly with Tina and Grown Ups. I think this album has a really strong central message. This is an album that deals directly with aging and the passage of time. It does well what all Pulp does well, the captivating spoken word of Jarvis Cocker is again predominant but not overpowering. Lyrically it is strong too. I feel like as an album it also has most of what I would hope for, a building sense of purpose and resolution. Broadly, the medicine for the passage of time is love. I don't think it says that in too cheesy or juvenile a way, either. Lots to like.