It took me a while to get into this when it first came out in 1992. I thought Pulp were chancers- just another knowingly louche, ironic disco rip-off. I now believe this is a classic, still semi-ironic song.
It’s as though Barry White was reincarnated in the body of a lanky white wordsmith from Sheffield and was force-fed Roxy Music, Chic and David Bowie. Pure filth, and absolutely overlooked for the bigger hits.
Hit The North 