Details
- Date: 13 July 1992
- Venue: City Hall Ballroom
- Location: Sheffield
- Supported by: Various Vegetables, Longpigs and The Warhols
Recordings
There are no recordings in circulation.
Reviews
Ian McGregor (unknown publication):
It's "Trial By Indie" night in the ever spectacular, ongoing madness that is the Sheffield Festival '92, and firstly let me apologise. I'm having a bit of difficulty sorting things out and so you may have to, sort of, read between the lines. So concentrate. Everybody knows Pulp are ace. Each week praise is heaped on their every twitch and hip-thrust and Stylophone blurt. And most of it is true. So it only remains for me to say that next time you see them, have a look at Russel Guitarist when Jarvis isn't doing much. He's f***ing brilliant - staring out like that freak from Sparks or sending perfectly-manicured shards of guitar flying with an oh-so-precise, exaggerated flick of the wrist. Very cool. Everything speeds along giddily in Pulp's world.
Unknown publication:
Sheffield Bloody Sheffield (Part One)
Beneath large silver balls dangling from the rafters like a Vision On planetarium, PULP arrive to a packed house of seasoned Cocker watchers. Looking like a poodle in a stunning fake fur jacket, Jarvis performs an implausibly cool behind-the-head Styiophone solo, and it's immediately obvious that Pulp's recent surge of activity has produced startling results. No longer just a quirky band with 'potential', tonight was the moment when the years of promise were consummated.
Russell Senior's electric violin is laced with more drama and irony than a camping holiday with Nigel Kennedy and Mark E Smith. As Jarvis croons in the sublime encore, pipe-cleaner legs flicking out like an anorexic Tom Jones, "Woke up this morning. I was still alive." There's a hell of a lot of people who are very glad about that.
