In Praise of Pulp's "Wickerman"

This might be my favorite song by Pulp, if not of all the song's I've ever heard. It's certainly up there. What's funny is that it took me awhile to really notice it as not only being what it is, a truly majestic song worthy of all of the praise I can make, but even as being a truly great song in Pulp's catalog.

For once a collaboration lives up to its hype with Scott Walker producing a Pulp album and it turning out the kind of gem you'd hope for. You'll notice that in the middle of this song Jarvis mentions the little child's ride at the park "that plays that ridiculously tragic tune" and then the song imitates it, a possible reference to Walker's own "Copenhagen" which references a child's carousel and then mimics the kind of music that plays when they're operating. I don't know who's idea that was, if it even was intentional or not, but it's neat. I mean "Wickerman" sounds like what one of those last two Scott Walker albums would presumably sound like should Walker not try to be so weird and try to imitate something he did from 1968 or so.

What's made me relisten to the song and really pay attention to it was when I sent it to a friend of mine, who was curious about Pulp, and he commented that he looked up the lyrics and found them very well written for a pop song. Upon listening to the song again I then noticed that the lyrics and general atmosphere to Wickerman really was spellbinding.

It almost perfectly captures the wistful feeling of wanting to go back to your childhood backyard and find the time warp that takes you back to when you were only ten or eleven. When you used to think that the hidden trail behind your neighborhood might lead to some "enchanting" place if you just followed it long enough or that you and the little girl you liked would fall in love instantly if only you could just find a way to sit next to her and talk to her on the bus during that field trip. After all, you thought that anything could happen on long "adventure walks" or on field trips at the time.

It's like "David's Last Summer Revisited" but with Walker on board and enough time having elapsed so that the angst of the original has been replaced by a more middle-aged melancholy more suitable to the band at that point. Perhaps this is "David's" return to the kind of summer he used to have? I don't know, but it's possibly the greatest song from the band that has a small army of great songs.