How To Fail With Elizabeth Day - S14, Ep3 How To Fail: Jarvis Cocker

Episode Date: May 25, 2022

Todays' guest is Jarvis Cocker: musician, writer, broadcaster. He was the frontman of Pulp, one of the most successful 90s Britpop groups whose hit, Common People, turned Jarvis into a star at the age of 32. He joins me to talk about the vagaries of fame, his failures in acting and academia, abandonment by his father, being raised by a household of women and the impact this has had on him, as well as divorce, co-parenting, clearing out the loft and why ephemera is an important part of our culture. Plus, he gives me a Birmingham-based anecdote that I think might be one of the greatest metaphors for celebrity I've ever heard.Jarvis's book. Called Good Pop, Bad Pop, is out TOMORROW https://www.penguin.co.uk/books/111/1114959/good-pop--bad-pop/9781787330566.htmlHe will be in conversation at the Royal Festival Hall in London at 7.30pm on Friday 27th May. Book here: https://www.southbankcentre.co.uk/whats-on/literature-poetry/jarvis-cocker-good-pop-bad-pop--How To Fail With Elizabeth Day is hosted by Elizabeth Day, produced by Naomi Mantin and Chris Sharp. To contact us, email [e-mail]---Social Media:Elizabeth Day @elizabdayHow To Fail @howtofailpod Jarvis Cocker @jarvisbransoncocker Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

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Let's go seize the night. That's the powerful backing of American Express. Visit amex.ca slash yamex. Benefits vary by card, other conditions apply. Hello and welcome to How to Fail with Elizabeth Day, the podcast that celebrates the things that haven't gone right. This is a podcast about learning from our mistakes and understanding that why we fail ultimately makes us stronger. Because learning how to fail in life actually means learning how to succeed better. I'm your host, author and journalist Elizabeth Day, and every week I'll be asking a new interviewee what they've learned

from failure. My guest today is a musician, broadcaster and author best known for a band he formed in 1978 as a teenager at secondary school in Sheffield. He planned out his vision for that band meticulously in an exercise book, including detailed diagrams of what they should wear. They would go on to become one of the most successful UK groups of the 1990s. Their hit Common People turned the band's frontman into a star at the age of 32. He became a defining face of the Britpop era, clever, stylish, satirical, and an inveterate live performer who keeps his glasses secure with a rubber band at the back of his head. He went on to write and to present radio programmes. His BBC Radio 6 music show was beloved by listeners and won awards. And now he has written

his first long-form prose book called Good Pop, Bad Pop. It finds the author clearing out his attic and taking an inventory of the ephemera that formed his eventful, iconic life. Not a life story then, so much as a loft story. He writes, I've learned over the years that the most important things in life are not always immediately obvious. My guest today is, of course, Jarvis Cocker. Jarvis, welcome to How to Fail. Thank you very much, Elizabeth. Hi. Hello. It is such a delight to have you on this podcast because I, along with so many millions other people, listen to your music all throughout the 1990s. And now I discover that you're a really good writer as well, which is quite frankly just greedy. So you describe Good Pop, Bad Pop as an

ongoing project of self-excavation. What do you think you've excavated about yourself during the process of writing it? Well, that's a very good question. Yeah, I was thinking about that the other day, actually. Well, yesterday, in fact, because I actually had to go back to the loft because we're making an audio book and thought it would be good to do some of the recording on location. Going back into that environment, because unfortunately, I haven't actually finished clearing it out. And I was trying to find a specific item. And I spent about an hour looking for this thing and still couldn't find it. So I guess what I found out about myself is I have a desire to hold on to things. But

sometimes by trying to hold on to things, but sometimes by trying to hold on to things, it actually stops you from finding the things that you really want to find because there's so much other stuff camouflaging it. That's so profound. And you also do this kind of clearing out and you use it as a way of introducing us to the ethos that you think lies behind good pop and pulp, which is, broadly speaking, that you can learn about a culture through throwaway objects more so than supposedly revered artefacts. Is that right? Yeah, I think, I mean, that is my experience. I mean, some people would probably disagree. I think the thing is that at the time that I left school, that was all I had to go on. I left school like the early 80s and I was on the dole. I had very little money.

So through necessity, I had to kind of live on people's throwaway things. It was easier. Well, it was more, what should we say, thrifty of me to buy things from jumble sales and charity shops. I could get more for my meagre supplemented benefit allowance by doing that. But I did find that, yeah, you get a different perspective on life if you're basically buying things that other people have thrown away. I was lucky, I suppose, to be around at a time when a lot of the stuff that you could get, like clothes and books

and things, were actually really good, and actually probably nicer than the new things that you could get in the 1980s, which I know a lot of people seem to think the 80s was okay, but I think that was the worst decade ever. How do you compare it to now? Because I guess the 80s was such a decade of conspicuous consumption. But now I feel we live in an era where we fetishize wealth in our celebrities. And you are someone who is kind of famous and who I imagine has made a bit of money. So how do you feel now about the things you buy? Has it changed at all? Do you suddenly have very expensive, luxurious tastes? Well, it's a pity you can't see me at the moment wearing my expensive cashmere underpants. Yeah, so I used to get all my clothes from Jumbo Sales. Obviously, I don't do that

anymore. I mean, for a start, Jumbo Sales don't really exist, but also I don't buy clothes from charity shops. But I think what happened was I was really lucky because I got the chance to develop a taste. And that was really through trial and lucky because I got the chance to develop a taste. And that was really through trial and error because I would rummage around and just buy things maybe because I liked the colour or something like that. And then I'd get it home, try it on. Sometimes things looked absolutely awful and sometimes things look good. And then when you started to look at the things that look good, I started to learn about things like the cut of clothes and stuff like that, or maybe discover someone, a certain tailor or a certain. And so now I guess I have a taste,

like for instance, I'm wearing a jacket that was actually made by a tailor, a guy called Edward Sexton, who used to be the cutter for a guy called Tommy Nutter, who was credited with kind of revolutionising men's tailoring at the end of the 60s. I think one of his big claims to fame is that on the cover of the Beatles album, Abbey Road, three members of the Beatles are wearing suits that came from Tommy Nutter. Wow. So as you're clearing through the loft, you come across these sort of everyday objects that make up this complicated fabric of who we are. So everything from chewing gum to old glasses to bags of soap to a ticket to a John Peel roadshow. But there's an exercise book that you come across in which you set out this plan for a band. And it's so specific. And I wondered if you had always been that kind of

child with a very, very clear vision of what you wanted to do. Yeah, it was interesting finding that exercise book. It wasn't an exercise book from my own school. Weirdly enough, it had my mum's name written on the front of it. So it must have been something from back in her day. I must have just found it lying around the house. But I had wanted to be a pop star, I think, from about the age of seven. This is probably due to watching TV and seeing bands on Top of the Pops and stuff like that. And that's kind of where I got my ideas from, I suppose. And I think really the thing of writing this kind of manifesto and then, as you say, down to the details of what the band were

going to wear and stuff like that. I think it's like that, what nowadays they call the power of positive projection or whatever, you know, that if you can picture it clearly enough, and you put the idea into the universe, maybe it's going to come true. And you came up with the name Pulp in an economics lesson, didn't you? I did, yes. We were doing economics and I think they gave us a copy of the Financial Times to look at to show us the commodities market, which meant nothing to me and I still don't really understand it. But looking through those names, there was something called Arabicus Pulp and that was the original name of the band. I always really wanted it just

to be called Pulp, not just because Arabicusicus pulp is kind of an unpleasant phrase to say, but pulp was the thing, you know, as you mentioned before, this idea of looking at what a society throws away. Well, pulp is kind of culture that is meant to be thrown away, stuff like comic books and plastic novelties, stuff like that, things that are considered a bit trashy. I mean, I guess pop music when it first came out was considered a pulp type of thing, like it was just something to entertain kids. But you know, pop music has survived and people are still getting stuff from those songs that were written such a long time ago. So I like to think maybe I was onto something there that pulp has got some kind of significance to it. What do you think of pop music now?

Well I just don't know anything about it I mean that's a sad thing having been someone who avidly followed the charts and as I write in the book actually you know I do think it was kind of like a bit of a national pastime and I hope I'm not just being nostalgic there but I do remember kids going to school and having the radio so that they could listen to the chart rundown because people felt kind of invested in it you bought a single and it was a bit like a little bet that you took out I suppose you would buy a record by your favorite band and then you would listen to the chart rundown and hope that your band that their record went up and if it did go up you'd feel like you had something to do with that so you really felt an investment in it as I said I just don't know what's happening in pop music now.

I mean, yeah, I watched the Brit Awards and I just felt really old. I thought, I do not understand this at all. I don't know what's going on. It's like people flying through the air and people keep coming on and things set on fire. I don't know. I just didn't get it. I think that's so true, the idea of having invested in something and parted with your money and then having this tangible object.

Because I remember recording the chart show on a cassette player and being so happy when I recorded the song without the spoken introduction from the DJ. And all of that, it was just so thrilling, wasn't it? from the DJ and all of that it was just so thrilling wasn't it yeah and I think you know the fact that you could participate in it in that way also made you feel that you could participate in it the other way that you could form a band and then maybe if the magical unthinkable thing happened you'd be the one who other people would be recorded on their cassette player what's it like for you now when you hear Common People? Say it comes on, I don't know, you're at a wedding reception and it comes on and the dance floor fills.

How does it feel? Have you ever got sick of listening to it? Well, I would never voluntarily listen to it. I'm not saying that because I don't like the song. I'm proud of that song, very proud of it. But I've played it so many times and I think I have to be careful with it. But sometimes, as you say, accidentally, I will get to hear it. The last time I can remember was actually quite embarrassing

because I was in a supermarket buying some food and the supermarket had music playing in the background and then suddenly common people came on and now whether somebody put it on on purpose thinking oh the Jarvis Cocker said let's put this on and whether it was like maybe in their mind they were saying let's make him feel welcome and play his song or maybe they're just thinking oh let's see how he reacts to this seen as you know the video was kind of shot in a pretend supermarket I don't know but it was really embarrassing because I couldn't just, but it was really embarrassing

because I couldn't just run away. Normally, if I'm somewhere public, like you said, if it was a wedding reception, I would just go out and pretend that I wanted to have a cigarette for a minute or just go for a walk or whatever, just make myself scarce. But I couldn't just abandon my trolley of food and run into the car park. So I had to kind of listen to the whole thing. As I say,

I'm proud of that song. Not just that song. I just don't like to be around when my own music's playing. I like to be there and actually play it myself. But I'm not saying that the me who makes music or the me who's on stage is different to the everyday me. But I think it's almost like you use a different part of your brain, really. And I don't want those two worlds to collide too much. Fascinating. I was very interested as well in the book to discover that you have these two formative periods in your life that you spend in hospital. One is when you had meningitis when you were six, and one is when you were in your 20s and you fell out of a window I mean you can

tell us the story more elaborately than that but what do you think those periods in hospital taught you? That's funny actually I've not thought about that you're right yeah those two periods probably did have a big effect on me I mean especially the earlier one that you mentioned when I had meningitis because that was when I was only six years old. So being taken out of your family. And basically, I was in isolation. I remember it was at the Sheffield Children's Hospital. And I don't know if it's the same now, but in the isolation ward, it was a long, thin ward. And you were in these rooms, which were separated by glass walls. So you could see that there were the kids in other beds, but you were really on your own. I would get visitors maybe once, twice a day.

And at the age of six, that's quite a thing to be taken out of your family. So I suppose as a kid, it would make you realize that things that you take for granted or think will always be there aren't always there. You're not always just going to be in the bosom of your family. Maybe you're going to be in this place that you don't really understand. I'm painting it as if it's a very traumatic thing there. But I think it's interesting because it does kind of take you out of the normal flow of life and maybe reveal something about it. I mean, especially you mentioned the second time when I fell out of a window when I was

old enough to know better when I think I was around the age of 23 then. And that definitely made me reconsider how I was living my life. And that's probably when I decided that when I got better and I got out of hospital, I would start to do something different. And that eventually led to me leaving Sheffield and moving down to London and going to St. Martin's. You fell out of a window, just for listeners you aren't aware because you were trying to impress a girl is that fair enough where what did describe what you were trying to do yes well it was all based on a thing i'd been to a party the week before and i'd seen this trick done where there were sash windows in this apartment that we the party was happening this guy pulled up the

window went out onto the window ledge and then he walked across to the window ledge just next to it, knocked on the window. Suddenly opened the window and he came back in. For some reason, this stunt, I thought, wow, that's amazing. He just walked around the outside of the building. I should say it was like five stories up. So it was quite a daredevil thing to do. And for some reason, I was in a situation about a week later, daredevil thing to do and for some reason I was in a situation about a week later I just decided to do it to try and impress this girl that I was trying to become friendly with and it was doomed to failure because she lived in a much more modern apartment block and it had those kind of modern metal framed windows that hinge in the middle of the window frame so rather than a sash window which you pull up vertically these these, you open a catch and

then you rotate the pane of glass within the frame. So part of the window comes into the room and the other part goes out. The main thing is you can't stand on the window ledge. So that means that the stunt was impossible. But for some reason, I decided that I would be able to do it by hanging from the window ledge by my hands and swinging Tarzan style onto the next window ledge. And I'll stop there because I don't want to do a spoiler for the book, but it didn't work well. And the fact that we're talking about being in hospital probably tells you how it turned out. I mean, reading that passage gave me anxiety because I feel like it's one of those things that people have bad dreams about, just hanging from a ledge. You suddenly realise that you don't

have the arm strength you thought you might, but it is it's a very very vivid anecdote and we'll get onto your failures now which are that is a failure let's face it I failed I failed to get back into the room and I failed to give the correct assessment of my upper body strength so uh yeah that, it came back to haunt me. So you learned something from it. So was it really a failure? And that's the entire premise of this podcast. You see, you learned your arms weren't strong enough. So your failures as you've sent them to me are very intriguing because there's not a lot of explanation. So I'm agog to hear the stories behind them the first two are both about applying to institutions so the first one you simply said is applying to RADA and I'm not sure when this comes in your

life because as you mentioned you applied and got into Central Saint Martins and that was really the start of this career that we've been talking about so when did you apply to RADA and how did you fail at it? Yeah, well, I did bunch those two failures together because they were kind of the same thing. So I'll deal with them both together if I may, because the other one that was in there was applying to Oxford University and that precedes that. So at school, I was considered to be reasonably intelligent. And so in the first year of the sixth form, they encouraged me to apply to Oxford University. So I did, because I guess I was flattered that they thought I could maybe do it. And I got an interview. Yeah, it all kind of worked out in a

strange way, actually, because the date that I got for my interview at Oxford University coincided with the date when the first pulp session for the John Peel program in 1981 was broadcast so that was a strange thing because obviously I was super excited that we'd managed to get a John Peel session it was the first time pulp were heard on the national airwaves I remember I had to take like a little transistor radio with me down to the interview. And I don't know if they do it the same now, but they did at the time that you would go to Oxford, you would arrive in the mid afternoon, have a meal, they would show you around, and then you actually slept in one of the halls. And then your interview was

the next day. So I had to kind of smuggle this transistor radio into the dormitory that I was sleeping in and then listen to it at an incredibly low volume so that I didn't disturb other people who were in the room at the same time. So that was a weird way to hear that. And then the next day, I went for this interview and it was a failure because the guy that was interviewing me was asking me about Tess of the D'Urbervilles by Thomas Hardy, which was a book I was supposed to have read, but I just hadn't read it. And I just thought, I'd read, you know, some notes on it. I thought I can just bluff my way through with that. It was going okay at first.

And then he asked me this question. So, well, Mr. Cocker, what would you say, given all the kind of coincidences and things like divine providence and things that happen in Thomas Hardy novels, would you think that he believed in a kind of divine hand behind human affairs? And I said, oh, yeah, well, because it's used as a device so much, I'm sure he must do. And then he said, well, actually, a few years before his death, Thomas Hardy said that he didn't believe that at all. And then the kind of silence descended on the room and I just realized that

he realized that I hadn't read the book and didn't know anything at all about Thomas Hardy and that was the end of my dreams of going to Oxford University but I didn't really want to go to university I mean especially with the thing of the Peel session having been broadcast the night before that was really what I wanted to do. And I think it helped me focus that on what I actually wanted to do with my life after I finished school. However, if we then jump forward to failure number two in this thing, after a couple of years trying to make the band work, nothing was really happening after the John Peel session. There was no interest really and so I

thought okay I'm gonna have to have another rethink now what made me think that I could act I really don't know I mean maybe because I've been on a stage because I've been in a band anyway I applied to RADA got accepted for an interview went down there and it was one of those situations you know where you kind of try and talk yourself into the idea that you think you could do something. And then you start doing it and you realize really soon, like maybe after about four seconds, that you can't do it. But you still got to go through with it. So it was some Shakespeare speech that they'd asked me to do. And I could just hear my voice as I said the first few words.

I thought, God, this is terrible. This is like a joke. But I had to go through with it. And yeah, there just seemed to be this kind of embarrassed silence at the end. And then, yeah, thank you very much and goodbye. So that's failures. If you were going to ask me what I learned from those failures, I suppose it's don't try and pretend.

You're only capable of doing things that you really want to do don't ever try to do something that you're not sure about and do you think that it was partly because you were flattered that you went for them that you tried to explore these opportunities because people expected great things of you yeah that's a good point i mean that's the thing isn't it we all like to be patted on the back and stroked and our egos boosted and stuff and so you think oh yes Oxford University that would be great or I can just imagine myself sitting in a in a book line study with my leather patches and the elbows of my tweed jacket or oh yes I can imagine myself down in the old Vic I don't know it's just like things I guess it's just like things you've picked

up from the newspapers or the telly that's a great thing to aspire to but I think you've got to find the thing that really chimes with you in fact in a way it's not even finding something it's just accepting that you have certain things in you that you have to express in the end you don't have much choice you know I think you just got to find out what they are and then just give voice to them. Tell me going back a few years what child Jarvis was like do you think you were a happy child? Yeah I think so I mean it's funny you know obviously you write in a book you go back and you look at the past and I suppose written on paper you know you've touched on the thing of childhood illness then there was a thing, my father left home and then my mother's brother died in an accident. And so you look at it in that way on paper, it looks like quite a sad kind of childhood, but my memories of childhood are

happy. That family unit that ended up being my mum and my sister and me, and then we had my grandparents were living next door, my mum mum's parents and it was a very kind of close-knit little family community I loved it I was a shy child but I was very well looked after you know I was never in any doubt that I was loved and I think that's one of the main things that you need that gives kids so much you know that if they know that people are going to love them whatever that unconditional kind of love then you can't go wrong, really. And it was a very female-dominated environment. Do you think that helped you understand how women work?

Well, I've got into trouble with this before. I remember my ex-wife, I once was talking about that, and maybe I'd said in an interview saying, yeah, I don't know whether I would say I understand women. That would be a really silly thing to say. But it was something like I was making out I had an insight into women because of this upbringing and she strongly disagreed with that. When she was still your wife?

Yes. Okay. Not that long before she stopped being my wife. So I wouldn't claim to understand women. It's not even. So I wouldn't claim to understand women. It's not even that. I wouldn't claim to understand any other human being, really. But it did certainly give me an idea about relationships from a different side, you know, from the female side of a relationship.

That's where I learned about relationships, really, here in, well, basically, it was a pretty jaundiced view of the male species because, you know, I mentioned that my dad left home, but also my Auntie Mandy lived across the yard. Her husband had left pretty much at the same time. And then my mum's best friend, her husband had left around that same time as well. So there was a lot of talk about that. And then obviously then talking about new boyfriends and stuff like that. So it was interesting.

That being my first perspective on relationships was coming very much, well, solely from a female perspective. And this is a bit of a cliche and a generalization, but I'm just going to lob it in anyway. But do you think that you understood and were unafraid of vulnerability as a result. Because I do believe that great creativity can only come if you're also willing to be vulnerable. No, I agree with you there. I think you're vulnerable and also open to making a fool of yourself. You know, you have to feel like you're walking on a tightrope and you could fall off and it all be a disaster. But that's what you have to do. Otherwise, what you write about, or singing about, or making films about, or painting isn't going to mean anything. It's got

to mean something to you first, for it then to mean something to another human looking at it. I think there's a Leonard Cohen quote saying, you know, anybody can show a scar, but it takes courage to show a pimple. And I like that one. That's very good, isn't it? courage to show a pimple and I like that one that's very good isn't it you mention your father leaving and you write in the book about it and you write he simply disappeared from our lives overnight I did get birthday cards from him though with a handwritten message inside that invariably finished with the words I've put your present in the post that's very hard for a seven-year-old boy to handle. Can you remember processing it, or did you simply accept it as fact? Well, the quote that you just said, you know,

I go on to say I must have kind of semi-believed him because I did wait for the post for quite a long time and see whether anything was going to come. And then eventually I kind of got wise to the fact that nothing was going to turn up. But it's probably a cliche, but kids will adapt to stuff. I just thought, well, that's how it is. Because you don't know any different. You know, the thing of him just disappearing overnight, that's also quite unusual, I suppose, and not really hearing from him at all for a long time. But I don't know, maybe stuff went on behind the scenes that I don't know about but that's how it was for me I mean it's funny I have talked to my mother about it and she actually thinks that was a good thing that my father did in a way and I would maybe agree with her in some

way as in it was a very clear-cut situation then he just wasn't there so there wasn't that awkwardness of oh you're going to live with your dad for one period of time. You know, I don't know. A lot of people have to do that. I mean, I've had to do that with my own son and it can work out. But I suppose in that case, I don't know. I guess what I'm trying to say is I'd rather have lived with the situation that I ended up in, just me, my sister and my mum, rather than being in the middle of two people

arguing or fighting over who's going to have most access and that kind of thing. It made it a lot kind of simpler. I think that's an incredibly generous thing to say and an incredibly important thing for people to hear because I know so many people who have gone through divorces as adults and who bear the weight of this guilt that they haven't been as present as they would like in their children's lives. And actually, I think it's really healthy to know that different kinds of family units can absolutely work. And it is better for people's mental health not to be brought up in a household riven with arguments. So thank you for sharing that and you mentioned your own son there and one of my favorite things when I was researching for this interview that I learned about you was that during the pandemic because he lives in Paris with his

mother and you went to see him and you wrapped him up in a bed sheet so you could hug him that's so sweet yeah I mean it's true because it was the longest I had seen him that first lockdown and he was with his mum so I think that was three months I hadn't seen him or something so I just couldn't help it you know I just had to have some contact even if it was through a bed sheet yeah given what we've been talking about, the fact that you're divorced and you see your son every couple of weeks, does that feel in any way like a failure?

And I hope you don't think that's a sort of intrusive question, but did it feel like that when you came to the realization that this marriage wasn't going to work because of what you'd been through as a child? Yeah, of course. When I realized that it wasn't going to work, then you you'd been through as a child yeah of course when I realized that it wasn't going to work then you think oh I'm just being like my father you know that always used to be the kind of default admonishment you know as a

kid you know if I was really getting on my mum's nerves she said shut up you're just like your father and I didn't want to be like that I didn't want to be the dad who disappeared and I've discussed this quite a lot with my sister as well because she's had a similar experience she's split up with the father of her kids and I think both of us because we'd been in through that situation where one parent just vanished we were both really determined that when it happened to us we wouldn't be like that that we would be there and I made sure that I had been there as much as being possible. I mean, you ask if it's a failure, obviously, whenever a marriage breaks down is a failure. But in terms of keeping the relationship with my son going, it's been a success because that was one thing, you know, I did

attempt to get to know my dad later in life. And what became really apparent really quickly was because there'd been this long 20-25 year gap that when we eventually did meet each other and try to establish a relationship it just didn't work because there'd just been too much time that elapsed there was nothing there to work on so it created a very weird atmosphere which was like i feel I should be close to this person, but I'm not. And so it was constantly very uncomfortable, I think, for both of us, and neither of us managed to get over that. So I didn't want that to happen to me and my son, and I'm very glad to say that it hasn't. Hi, I'm Matt Lewis, historian and host of a new chapter of Echoes of History, a Ubisoft podcast brought to you by History Hit.

Join me and world-leading experts every week as we explore the incredible real-life history that inspires the locations, the characters and the storylines of Assassin's Creed. Listen and follow Echoes of History, a Ubisoft podcast brought to you by History Hit, wherever you get your podcasts. Will no one rid me of this troublesome priest? This is a time of great foreboding. These words supposedly uttered by a king over 800 years ago. These words supposedly uttered by a king over 800 years ago set in motion a chain of gruesome events and sparked cult-like devotion across the world. I'm Matt Lewis.

Join us as we unwrap the enigma and get to the heart of what really happened to Thomas Beckett by subscribing to Gone Medieval from History Hit. from History Hit. Growing up in Sheffield, do you think that your music has been specifically informed by Sheffield? Well, certainly the lyrics of it, yeah. And maybe something to do with the music. I did a project a few years ago

where I was writing like a soundtrack to go with some old public information films that had been made about the steel industry. And during the research for that, I found out that the cinemas in Sheffield were famous for having to have stronger amplification equipment because loads of people in Sheffield were deaf because of the sound of the factories, because the steel production is a really noisy thing. And it produces a lot of very low frequencies. And there's a theory that Sheffield music, especially Sheffield electronic music, is really heavy on the bass. And one theory is that that's the reason, because people heard this around them in the environment, from the noise coming from the factories and stuff so maybe Sheffield as an environment had some kind of effect although most of the steel factories had closed down by the time I formed a band but yeah definitely lyrically I mean I still write

about Sheffield from time to time you know I lived in Sheffield until the age of 25 so all my kind of formative experiences happened there. And I think they're the things that you tend to draw on when you're writing things. Amazing. The psychogeography of art is just so fascinating. But let's get on to your third failure. And I don't know anything about it other than you've written it as Birmingham, brackets, two humiliations, close brackets. So tell me what Birmingham represents for you. Yeah, I've got nothing against the city of Birmingham, but it's just when you asked me to come up with failures, this isn't a kind of thoroughbred failure. It is more of a kind of

humiliation, but I think it does say something. I think it's in the same area. You tell me whether you think this is legitimate or not. Yeah, so we've talked about pulp, you know, and how it was kind of a long time that, you know, I moved down to London to study art. And when I did that, I thought that was the end of the group. But by weird circumstances, we eventually ended up having a hit record. Now, you know, you talked about Common People. When that single came out, it was obvious that it was going to change our career, but we didn't know how much. And the week it came out, it was obvious that it was going to change our career, but we didn't know how much. And the week it came out, there was this, I don't know if they did it a lot, but what they decided to do with the chart show, we talked about the charts earlier, but they were going to have the

chart rundown come live from Birmingham. And when it got to the top 20, when you found out what your chart position was, you would then go onto a stage and perform your song, well, basically mine to your song, in front of a live audience. Okay. So we drove to Birmingham, sat in a porter cabin, and this chart rundown came, and it got to 20, and they still hadn't called us, and it got to number 10. They still hadn't called us, so we knew we were in the top 10. We didn't know what our chart position was going to be. It kept going. It got to the top five. They still hadn't called us. So we knew we were in the top 10. We didn't know what our chart position was going to be. It kept going, it got to the top five, they still hadn't called us. Eventually, we got called at number two. So this was, you know, an incredible thing. I mean, we had been in the charts before, but I think our highest chart entry had been like number 30 or something

like that. So this was a quantum leap into the big time. In situations like that, I always get over-nervous. So I'd started wearing contact lenses on stage by this point because I was sick of my glasses falling off if I jumped around or anything like that. But whether it was nerves or whatever, I was trying to put my contact lenses in and only one would go in.

So I could only see through one eye. So we went out onto the stage i'm kind of stumbling around i'm having to get somebody to help me so that i don't fall then it had been drizzling so the area that we were performing on it was only about six inches off the ground it was like a very low kind of stage but he had like bits of puddles and things like that on and there was a an audience were there out in the open air and this mild drizzle and then the song started playing and we started mime into it and i was excited i was trying to put as much as i could into it we got to the climactic point of the song you know where it suddenly shifts up the gear and i you know i can't help it i always jump at that

point because it's like this is it now we're into the big thing. And I jumped. And as it came down, I landed in one of the puddles and I slipped. And so this was the pinnacle. We finally got to this thing that I'd been dreaming of since I was seven years old. I'd become a pop star. And whatever I'd had time to fantasize about it being like in the interim certainly wasn't. Here you are, a pop star, lying in a puddle on a Sunday afternoon in Birmingham with people watching. So I think that just shows you that maybe the reality of your ambitions is always going to be different to how you imagine it.

Well, it goes back to that Leonard Cohen quote, like that was your pimple when you did it in public. It was a giant pimple and it popped. What was the second Birmingham related humiliation? Oh God, well, well, this one, yeah, this is kind of a bookend of Pope's career, I suppose, which was, we released an album later called This Is Hardcore that was a bit, people didn't like it as much. We went on a tour.

I was in a kind of not such a great mental state at that time. So the climax of the concerts was all these black balloons fell from the ceiling of the venue. For some reason, I thought that was an interesting thing. You know, balloons are supposed to be about celebration, but a black balloon, maybe that's the most depressing part you've been to in your life. I don't know. Anyway, this was the thing that happened. When we played in Birmingham, at the point where all the black balloons were supposed to form, might have even been the same point in Common People, you know. I've only just thought about that.

The mechanism didn't work. Nothing happened. I should have just left it at that. Just like, okay, it didn't work, whatever. But for some reason, I could see the string that came from the big kind of netting that all the balloons were in hanging just a bit too high for me to reach. So I beckoned one of the road crew over,

got on his shoulders, went to the string and then started yanking it really hard. Still, it wouldn't do it except one solitary balloon kind of very lonely wafted down from the rafters of the birmingham nec and then i had to carry on finishing the song and all the way through the rest of the song a girl in the front row had caught the balloon and was just like waggling it from side to side just to kind of really rub it in like it's taunting yeah it didn't work and everybody

knows you really drew attention to it and then I don't know there was that was humiliated so yeah you mentioned in passing that you weren't in a great mental space at that stage do you mind my asking what was going on for you I think because I'd wanted that stardom or I'd built up an idea of what I thought stardom would be and the actual reality of it I didn't like when you've wished And the actual reality of it, I didn't like. When you've wished for something for most of your life, and then you get it, which most people never do that, you know, they never get to realize an ambition. And I did. And then I didn't like it. I just felt really bad about myself. I said,

what is your problem? You've got what you wanted. Why aren't you happy? And that was what I was going through at that time. It's not a nice feeling to have that, you know, why aren't you happy? And that was what I was going through at that time. It's not a nice feeling to have that, you know, because basically it turns you against yourself. You can deal with a lot of outside hardships. That's not in any way to belittle things that happen, like, you know, not having money or what stuff like that. That circumstances, as long as it's something coming from outside, I think that's easy to deal with with when you're dealing with something that comes from inside yourself that's really tricky because you can't escape it and you've got to as the saying is have a word with yourself and try and work out why that is and that can be a long process what was it about stardom that didn't

live up to your anticipation of it. What's fame really like? I can't tell you that because it's different for every person. That's the thing. As I say, I think there are people I know personally, you know, who have no problem with it at all and are really happy. I think it was just I had such an unrealistic picture that had gone in in the book, as you mentioned. I talk about telly quite a bit.

And I think that was part of it, of maybe me thinking that if I got famous, I would like live in TV land. It would be like, I wouldn't have to do normal things. I mean, it's the same, like before I wanted to be a pop star, I wanted to be an astronaut. That was a similar thing. I wanted to leave the earth behind.

I don't know why that is. I'm sure if I went to see a psychiatrist, I could probably get some insight into it. But this feeling that I was going to escape into this magical place where all the things that applied to normal people wouldn't apply to me. You can never do that. Wherever you are, you're not going to escape yourself.

You can't. It's a physical impossibility. So you may as well get to actually like yourself. Otherwise, you're never going to get anywhere. And may as well get to actually like yourself otherwise you're never going to get anywhere and do you think you do now like yourself i can put up with myself but i like you i think you're immensely likable well that's very kind of you to say when you said there that you had to have a word with yourself. What did that actually mean in reality? How did you cope with that period of your life?

Well, what I realised, I mean, that was the thing, and maybe that was why it was a blessing in disguise in the end, was all this time when I'd been thinking, oh, yeah, I'm going to escape to this magical realm, I had been living and I'd had relationships and I had people who were close to me and they got me through it really and it made me appreciate them more and so really it did make me realize that maybe I'd taken a lot of stuff for granted that I should have counted my blessings you know

and that was the positive thing that came out of it I wouldn't have got through it otherwise. Do you think you're an ambitious person? I'm ambitious in terms of wanting to do the best work that I can. And that's another thing that came out of that, I suppose, is that I separated out the fame part of it from the, for want of a better word, creativity part of it. And I'm still ambitious for creativity. I want to write the best song I possibly can. If I could write the best song ever written, I'd be so happy. That's what I write the best song I possibly can. If I could write the best song ever written, I'd be so happy. That's what I'm ambitious about. I mean, this book that we're talking about, that's an ambition that's been realised. I guess like a lot of people, I've

always thought, oh, it'd be nice to write a book one day. And the fact that I've actually finally got round to it, and I'm happy with it, that makes me feel good. I know it's not out yet, but I've managed to do that. So I've realised an ambition. And that self-excavation that we began by talking of, is that also because you want other people to understand you or to see you? Or is it simply your own self-understanding that fulfils you? I don't think you can separate those two things. I don't think human beings are that different to each other. So my hope would be that obviously, yeah, I'm getting something from it, apart from just more storage space. I'm getting a kind of a chance to deal with some things that maybe I should have dealt with a while ago or to have a look back at

my life and try and make some sense out of it. But I would hope maybe that because people's experiences aren't that different to each other, that hopefully people can relate to that and it'll say something to them as well. I love that. I came across this fact during the preparation for this episode, which I don't know, it just really unsettled me. And I want to share it with you, which is that in 1996, Melody Maker judged you to be the fifth most famous man in Britain. You were after John Major, Frank Bruno, Will Carling, and Michael Barrymore. And I think the thing that unsettled me about it was those men that came above you in that spurious list they've all had or had very very tricky times and I suppose it just made me realize

how difficult fame and or notoriety is to live with and that actually you've done such a good job of navigating it well it's very kind of you to say that. It's kind of what we touched on earlier. Fame is such an entrenched thing within our culture that people will think that is what's going to solve your issues. You see it all the time. I mean, I don't watch X Factor anymore, but when I used to watch it, that's the thing, isn't it?

You get these kids who are really excited, and it's like, if I could be a famous singer, that would be it, right? That would solve all my problems. I'd be so happy. People think it's like going to heaven or something. It's achieved that mythical status. If you look at the history of entertainment, it often doesn't end very well for those people who get that immense fame. In fact, it seems more often than not, it doesn't. So is your loft nice and tidy now, Jarvis? That's a very personal question. Because I do mean your psyche when I'm using that terminology. It's much better than it was. At first, it was just, you could hardly get in. It was just things

piled on top of each other. Some things in boxes now sometimes even those kind of clear plastic boxes with lids that go on top so yeah it looks a lot tidier but there's still some way to go so might there be a second volume do you think yeah I didn't get to the end of it we'll see I mean I've enjoyed doing it as I say it's certainly realized a cherished ambition of mine I really hope that other people are going to get something from it and yeah there is more to do I mean so yeah maybe I'll do another one let's see the thread that has run throughout this conversation is of course failure what do you think those failures that we've discussed have taught you I mean or perhaps an easier question is are you grateful for them yeah I think it's hard to and maybe that's a good thing to take

away I mean you probably get this from a lot of time from the people you speak to it's hard to appreciate that at the time because failure when you're going through it, you feel humiliated and you think, this is it. How am I ever going to be able to hold my head up in public again? I think it's good to know that people aren't watching you as closely as you maybe think they are and have got their own lives to get on with. So you might register with them for a few seconds, but then they'll get back to their failures. So I think that helps, but also time helps. And unfortunately, I think that's the only way you learn things in life is by things like failures. The only way you're going to learn what to do is by finding out what not to do, and how you find out what not to do is by failing, by trying something and it not working out.

But hopefully that points you in the direction of what will work for you. It's the perfect place to end on. Jarvis Cocker, thank you so, so much for coming on How To Fail. Well, thank you very much, Elizabeth. I was slightly nervous about talking to you, but you've made it very, very pleasant for me.

very pleasant for me.