Jarvis Cockcrow.


There was a crow outside my window today with a call that sounded exactly like the muted trumpet in Pulp’s ‘This is Hardcore’.

This wasn’t the first time I’ve noticed this 'Bird with the Britpop Squawk' (a good title for a thriller). I hear him a lot. Each time he unwittingly triggers a niche earworm in my head. At least he reminds me of a song I like. It could be worse: he could sound like Axel F’s Crazy Frog.

(This was the most modern musical reference I could come up with.)

Perhaps his aural similarity to a Pulp song isn’t a coincidence. He could have flown through Somerset during their headline set at the '98 Glastonbury Festival and decided to make one of their brass arrangements his own. They have an average lifespan of ten to fifteen years – crows, not Pulp – so it’s on the cusp of being possible.

Thank God he didn't hear Robbie Williams' set. If so, I'd be one of the first people convicted for strangling a bird. I'd like to think my actions would be justified.

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