Sparks: we all owe them so much. Hundreds of dollars, in fact, each and every one of us. And they expect to be paid. Just kidding. Mind you, we do owe Sparks; for being pioneers in so many subgenres of music it’s cumbersome to list them all, for writing so many brilliant songs—no one else could have written “Falling in Love With Myself Again,” “Lighten Up, Morrissey,” or the wonderful “Let the Monkey Drive”—but most of all for being perhaps the weirdest, smartest, and most consistently evolving band in the history of rock.
Since 1971 LA natives and brothers Ron (the perpetually scowling keyboardist with the mustache that has slowly morphed from Hitleresque to pencil thin like Ron himself) and Russell (the hyperactive singer with the falsetto that can shatter bulletproof glass and makes Geddy Lee sound like Ian Curtis) Mael have released 23 mind-twisting albums featuring great absurdist lyrics, wonderful melodies, and lots of great and twisted tunes like “I Married Myself” and “The Decline and Fall of Me.”
Over the past 42 (!) years they’ve done the Glam thing, the New Wave thing, the synthpop thing, the punk thing, the electronic pop/Giorgio Moroder thing—the truth is they’ve done just about everything, with the possible exception of Grunge, which they might have done had they both not fanatically despised flannel shirts.
Their latest thing—excepting 2013’s Two Hands One Mouth (Live from Europe), their first ever live LP—was the fascinating 2009 radio musical, The Seduction of Ingmar Bergman, done in conjunction with Swedish public radio (obviously SPR isn’t as terminally dull as NPR), which is currently being turned into a motion picture, which I hope will feature Bergman’s character in the nude.
We recently had the opportunity to speak to Russell Mael by phone. Unfortunately the interviewer (yours truly) squandered much of the 20 minutes allotted asking dumb questions. Still, Russell Mael, a soft-spoken and very confident fellow, was gracious throughout, even when I said, “I have an unhealthy obsession with Don Kirshner, the leaden and charisma-free host of the late-night ‘70s TV show Don Kirshner’s Rock Concert. Did you ever meet him? “Yes I did,” answered Russell. “We played his show!”
On a more serious note, I asked if Sparks was working on a new studio LP. “We’ve been working for about the past year,” responded Ron, “on another musical drama like The Seduction of Ingmar Bergman. In general, it’s a story-driven movie project that we’ve constructed so hopefully we can play it live. The Seduction of Ingmar Bergman had 14 cast members; it was kind of prohibitive to perform live. The new one is smaller, with Ron and I being the main cast members.”
As for The Seduction of Ingmar Bergman, Russell said “We’d always seen it in more cinematic terms than as a musical radio drama. It’s being developed as a feature film, with Guy Maddin [ed’s. note: the avant garde Canadian filmmaker who brought us The Saddest Music in the World and My Winnipeg] slated to be the director, and they’re putting the financing—the boring stuff—together.”
I then asked if Sparks’ forthcoming U.S. tour would be like Europe’s, in which the Maels dispensed with a band and performed as a duo. Russell responded, “Same general concept. We plan to do different material; lots of songs from the back catalogue we haven’t done before. People really embraced us doing the tour. When you’re perceived as a band, it’s hard to go on stage with just two people and not be perceived in a bad singer-songwriter way. We succeeded well.”
I then asked how their songwriting process works. Does Russell write the lyrics and the music? Or do you collaborate on the music? He answered, “Ron does the bulk of both. He’s the real workhorse. I used to do more in the past. It’s not that I’m lazy, but I think Ron’s stuff is more complex in ways that I can’t do. I wrote some songs on the early albums. “Gone With the Wind.” “Pineapple.” “Slow Boat.” We’re both credited as songwriters, but Ron is the real workaholic. I’m the singaholic.” (I wanted to tell him there are 12-step programs for that, but I was growing short on time.)
I then veered fatally into idiocy and said, “This is a stupid question, but if forced at gunpoint, would you choose to cover Grand Funk’s “We’re an American Band” or Don McLean’s “American Pie?” Russell very kindly replied, “That is a stupid question.” (Long pause.) “I’m just kidding.” (I don’t think he was.) Finally he said, “I guess I’d pick “American Pie,” but singing about America, I’d rather do neither. Ron and I would never sing about being an American band without there being some irony in it.” (So the question was useful; Russell basically admitted they were both commies.)
I then asked, “I’ve heard your music described as everything from New Wave to Punk/New Wave to Contemporary Pop/Rock to Dance Rock to Proto-Punk to Synthpop to Disco to Glam to Club/Dance. Do you think this compulsive genre-hopping has kept you from establishing a concrete image and becoming superstars?” Russell responded, “We don’t care in that sense. Take a band like U2. They may they have some extra ability that keeps them from having to change course. While other bands make three albums and break up because they haven’t changed course. We think our veering off course is what makes our band. We’re still doing stuff that we think is vital, and we’re on our 23rd album, and we think new ideas and new concepts help account for our longevity.” Well said, Russell.
I then asked if it had ever occurred to the brothers Mael that they might be too brilliant to become superstars. Russell found the theory to his liking. He said, “In contrast to 99 percent of what’s out there, you might be right. We just like to do things that are interesting, and we have too many smart thoughts, and those thoughts get us in trouble with the mainstream. I’m speaking in terms of having ambition and drive to do stuff that’s not competing on the same terms, and not wanting to fit into the same norms. Even the edge is such a predictable edge. We give what we do a lot of thought and work on it very hard, and what we do is provocative, but provocative in a different way. Even our going out as a duo was provocative, and our fans embraced the concept.”
Which is when I ran out of time, never getting to ask Russell about his attitude towards vinyl and whether he spent his spare time haunting used record stores for obscure Horslips albums, or whether he’d ever considered quitting Sparks to put out solo albums with lots of terrible sessions musicians, or maybe the Doobie Brothers as a backing band. Which is probably a good thing. He’d have just told me I’d asked another stupid question, and I’m not sure I could have handled that.
Anyway, Sparks will be playing selects dates in the US and Canada and beyond on what they’re calling their “Two Hands One Mouth” tour, and you won’t want to miss it. Really. If they played “Baby, Baby (Can I Invade Your Country)” or “Throw Her Away (And Get a New One),” how would you ever look yourself in the mirror again?
Just don’t wear your glasses to the show. Russell’s supernatural falsetto might just shatter them into a million tiny pieces. He can do it whenever he wants.
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