When Pulp released their sixth studio album, This is hardcore, in March 1998, they effectively pulled the plug on the bright, euphoric party that was Britpop. Coming off the back of their stratospheric, era-defining masterpiece Different Class, the band - spearheaded by a weary, hyper-famous Jarvis Cocker - chose to completely sidestep the victory lap. Instead of giving the public another batch of bouncy anthems, they dropped an uncompromising, brilliant record that captured the ultimate comedown of nineties stardom, trading universal pop appeal for a thrillingly dark look at the underbelly of success.

Musically, the album swaps out the sleek, uplifting synth-pop of their previous hits for a much more ambitious mix of art rock, glam rock, and cinematic noir. It sounds grand yet deeply unsettling, full of lush string arrangements, eerie keyboard lines, and a heavy, slow-burning groove that crawls under your skin. Jarvis delivers his lyrics with a conspiratorial, spoken-word whisper that makes you feel like you are sitting right next to him in a dimly lit room, recounting the bizarre, claustrophobic realities of a hangover that just won't quit.

The album is packed with staggering moments, starting with the tense, anxious dread of the opening track, The Fear. The sweeping, operatic title track remains a flat-out masterpiece - utilizing a creepy easy-listening horn sample to create a sprawling epic about fame and power - while Help the Aged mixes classic Pulp melodicism with an unexpectedly moving, melancholy look at mortality. Decades later, This is hardcore is still an incredibly captivating revisit because it is so wonderfully fearless, serving as a reminder of what happens when a massive pop band decides to make art completely on their own terms.