A little while back, when I was still living in Brighton, I was sat upstairs on a bus where the only other passengers on the top deck were a mum and her young daughter, probably about 6 or 7 years old. The daughter said, “Mummy, can we sing your favourite song”, and I expected to hear either a children’s song or something else awful, but instead they unexpectedly burst into a rendition of Pulp’s Disco 2000. It was a sweet moment that I’ve always remembered, even before having a daughter of my own who I may get to sing Pulp songs with one day.
i was thinking about that moment the other day after the same song popped into my head (or did the song pop into my head because I thought of that moment?). I thought about how, when growing up, the year 2000 seemed like an impossibly futuristic date, as it did to the protagonists of that song. Lots of albums, films, companies and other things crowbarred 2000 or millennium into their name to seem more futuristic. Carl Cox’s ‘Phuture 2000’ being a particularly awful example of this trait in music. What I find hard to get my head round, is that this date, which always felt like the future to me, will be the olden days to Frida, in the same way the sixties or seventies were and are to me. Pulp will seem as much a part of the distant past to her as The Beatles were to me, and I will no doubt feel very old.