BEFORE this gig was brought under the Feile 96 umbrella, it was simply Pulp at the Point, and the stage was already set for a Saturday night disco extravaganza in Dublin's docklands.
The chintzy Sheffield band has been together since the New Romantic era, but it took Britpop to boost Jarvis Cocker and his motley crew to the upper tier of the charts.
And, following his disruption of Michael Jackson's performance at this year's Brit Awards, Jarvis is now cock of the walk, and he can proudly strut and shimmy in his new kingdom of indie Neverland.
The kitsch kids and tacky teens were up for this show right from the start, and some of the clubbed up 1970s attire was in shiny contrast to the usual grunge gear.
These Pulp fans weren't just going to a gig - they were heading down to the Disco 2000, and they were dressed for a retro rendezvous.
When Jarvis kept the appointment, the capacity crowd gave the spindly singer a hero's welcome, and Pulp responded by unfurling the underdog banner in the form of Mis-Shapes.
"Just put your hands up/It's a raid!" sang Jarvis, and the audience happily reached for the sky. Do You Remember The First Time? was just the kind of nerdy nostalgia which Jarvis does so wall.
And the Pulp puppies lapped up these distant memories of teenage life long ago.
I Spy was another semi autobiographical peek into Cocker's voyeuristic youth, while Live Bed Show was a bedroom window drama with little action but lots of emotion, and the Bowiesque style added some grandeur to the woebegone tale.
Something Changed was a wide eyed ode to the wonderful whims of fate, but Sorted For E's And Whizz was a whip cracking swipe at the pill popping culture.
Pencil Skirt dropped some more memories of teenage lust, as did the not very understated Underwear.
Of course, all this foreplay was simply to get the fans ready for the final ecstasy of Common People, and Jarvis stretched every gangly sinew to make his pointed observations on real life.
Flames shot from the stage as the song thundered to its conclusion like a runaway supermarket trolley, and King Cocker left the stage to the screams of 6,000 sorted subjects.
Who'd have thought cheap could be so classy?
