Reunion tours have become a common feature of the live circuit nowadays, but Pulp do them with panache. Having originally split in 2002 after their huge Britpop-era success, they toured again in 2011-12 and now, more than a decade later, they have not forgotten how to make an entrance. An electronic drone grows louder and louder before Jarvis Cocker ascends from beneath the stage – like a boyband member half his age – and launches into 1995’s I Spy, a dazzling tale of working-class revenge that includes the marvellous line: “Take your year in Provence and shove it up your arse.” Having formed in 1978 and been influenced more by the likes of Sparks and Roxy Music than, say, the Beatles and the Kinks, Pulp were always the oddballs who crashed the Britpop party. Now, they may seem an unlikely band to be such a hit at a festival with a young audience. They pepper the setlist with deep cuts, the breeze blows the sound around for the first half an hour, and many in the audience won’t have been born when the band headlined V festival here in 1996. However, a mix of parents, radio, YouTube and Spotify seem to have taken their songs to a whole new generation. There is barely a voice that isn’t bellowing “Let’s all meet up in the year 2000” during a crunchingly great Disco 2000. Hits such as Do You Remember the First Time? and Babies prompt similar mass sing-songs and celebrations. Something Changed – dedicated to bass guitarist Steve Mackey, who died this year – is beautifully poignant as the sun goes down, and the staging for Sunrise, with orange glow and lightbulb sun, is dazzling. But the set is full of darker moments and more intimate observations. Underwear is still a brilliantly observed drama about sexual pressures and anxieties; Cocker amusingly and helpfully explains that the lesser-known Pink Glove is about “when somebody wants you to wear something in particular to get to a certain place”. Alongside the remaining core of Candida Doyle (keyboards), Mark Webber (guitar) and Nick Banks (drums), additional musicians and a full string section give the likes of This Is Hardcore a sumptuous lushness. Central, of course, is Cocker, who for all his solo/DJ work and “national treasure” status is still most in his element as Pulp’s gangly, bespectacled frontman. With his velvet suit, he still resembles a sociology lecturer moonlighting as a killer disco dancer, and remains charismatic and engaging. “We are real. We are not avatars,” he chuckles. As the clock reaches the 90-minute mark, the great showman turns tease: “Have we forgotten something?” The inevitable Common People erupts in a blaze of big choruses and pyrotechnics. Set to end in July, this latest outing feels very blink-and-you-miss-them once again, but as Cocker teases on their departure: “We’ll try and come back a bit quicker next time.” At Isle of Wight festival, 16 June, then touring. This article was corrected on 29 May to say that the late Steve Mackey was Pulp’s bass guitarist.