Jarvis Cocker and Pulp celebrate the band’s reunion at Latitude.

A golden rule in animation is that characters should be identifiable only by their silhouette.

Because Jarvis Cocker is continuously put into relief on the giant screens at Latitude festival, it’s a principle that must have been familiar to whoever designed Pulp’s reunion tour.

His unorthodox dance skills, consisting of side lunges, sharp elbows, and fluttering hands, make him Britpop’s very own angle-poise light.

It’s like a massive, beautiful special effect when his shape is beamed high over the audience at Latitude festival. When Jarvis is here, who needs fireworks? (We also get fireworks, although they come later).

Pulp play Latitude in the midst of a summer-long reunion tour, 22 years after their last album and a decade after their last live performance.

The television screens say, “This is what we do for an encore,” before they take the stage. Even though time has passed, the tunes feel amazingly fresh.

Disco 2000 is practically a British Abba song, all suburban angst and thundering disco beats; Babies is a voyeuristic manifesto; and Mis-shapes is the music of the misfits’ vengeance.

Those hits elicit large sing-alongs not just from adults who witnessed them the first time, but also from their children.

Meanwhile, Cocker remains as dry and cheeky as ever. “Are you feeling okay?” “We’ll see about that soon,” he says ominously as the concert begins.

But he’s genuinely in the mood to party. The band has been enjoying the event all day, and before long, he is laughing at people who have stapled underpants to their flagpoles and throwing chocolates into the crowd. “My doctor’s here tonight, so he wouldn’t agree with this,” he observes.

Cocker even tells of his fiancée trying on a dragon’s tail at one of the festival’s many stands, “which I found strangely exciting, actually.”

His vice has always had a strange purity to it, consisting of things like glimpsing a bra strap (Underwear) or visualizing the contour of someone’s breasts (F.E.E.L.I.N.G.C.A.L.L.E.D.L.O.V.E.

Even the provocatively titled This Is Hardcore is mostly concerned with the shady comparisons between the porn industry and the music industry. Which one comes off the worst?

They add a new cinematic grandeur to Misfits and a whirling, hypnotic energy to Do You Remember The First Time, spread across a vast Hollywood musical stairway and supplemented by the Elysium Collective sting section.

A touching Something Changed is a tribute to bass guitarist Steve Mackey, who died earlier this year at the age of 56, and Sunrise, which Cocker sings in front of a brilliant, white-hot globe of lightbulbs, is a moving finish to the main act.

However, some of the more obscure tracks are not well received. Like A Friend, a rarity from the soundtrack to 1998’s Great Expectations, seems like an unusual choice for a festival set, especially when they leave out fan favorite Razzmatazz.

But the band is aware that one song in particular has piqued everyone’s interest.

“Have we forgotten something?” Cocker asks, imagining the set is over. “Haven’t we played David’s last summer?”

Then, with a wink and a nod, they crank up a lengthy, blood-curdling rendition of Common People.

The song’s harsh depiction of poverty tourism has received even more punch as it approaches 30, and the gap between affluent and poor grows even wider.

Cocker snarls his way through it, standing astride two monitors and pumping his fist in the air as the crowd sings along, before it concludes in a burst of pyrotechnics and confetti.

It’s a reminder, like Blur’s Wembley Stadium shows a fortnight ago, that Britpop wasn’t all about beers and blokes. Some of the artists were simply out of their league.

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