Talent Is an Asset- The Story of Sparks

by Daryl Easlea

  Of the guest appearances, Eskimos and Egypt, another band from manager Eric Harle’s stable (featuring David Cameron-Pryde) play on a powerful rock version of ‘Angst In My Pants’, while the involvement of Faith No More on several tracks was a pleasant, if abrasive, surprise. The San Franciscan band got involved after Sparks heard they were big fans and established a link with guitarist Dean Menta that continues to this day.

  “I saw Sparks play on American Bandstand in 1975,” keyboard player Roddy Bottum told Time Out New York. “My sister and I immediately went out and bought Indiscreet. For Plagiarism they asked if we would collaborate on a song — and we ended up recording three.”*

  The hi-NRG of the dance half of Plagiarism simply wasn’t enough. The quicker tempo benefits ‘When I’m With You’, but there’s a hint of regret by the end of it: exactly what was the point? Similarly, Erasure’s version of ‘Amateur Hour’ was not their finest hour.

  Overall, Plagiarism was not a great success. The album was as musically schizophrenic as Sparks’ career — the dramatic baroque orchestrations jarred with the high energy reworkings of ‘Beat The Clock’ and ‘The Number One Song In Heaven’. Also, the wittily designed sleeve with Ron and Russell’s heads transposed onto bodybuilders’ torsos did not augur well as a commercial proposition.

  Again, Sparks had followed up great success with a commercial stall as a lot of the UK audience that had recently been won over by Gratuitous Sax. were not that interested. If anything, Sparks’ 2000 album, Balls, should have appeared first, as hard-edged dance music was all the rage in the UK at this point with The Prodigy, The Chemical Brothers and Fat Boy Slim all in the charts with their abrasive hybrids of techno, funk and rock. Although instigated by Logic, by the time the album came out, it had been picked up by Roadrunner Records, a label synonymous with heavy metal releases. Ron and Russell’s initial misgivings had proved correct. The project, however, is not without considerable merit, if only for showcasing Ron Mael as a songwriter.

  Sparks supported the release of Plagiarism with a short UK tour in December 1997 and joined Faith No More on stage on the final night of their 1997 European tour in L’Aéronef, Lille, France on December 10. It marked the introduction of Sparks’ new live drummer, Tamera Glover replacing Christi Haydon. With her striking bob and broad smile, ‘Tammy’, who had been playing with LA group Chewy Marble, would prove a most welcome addition to the line-up.

  The final project of the 20th century for Sparks was to provide the soundtrack to Tsui Hark’s film Knock Off. Hark’s credentials were impressive, having been a leading light of the new wave cinema coming out of Hong Kong since the mid-Eighties. Ron and Russell had first encountered the Vietnamese director while working on the unrealised Mai The Psychic Girl project. Billed as ‘an explosive thriller set in Hong Kong’s shady manufacturing scene during the handover to China’, it was another attempt by Hollywood to capitalise on Hark’s considerable Asian success, and one of the few productions that was granted filming rights while the former British colony was handed back during July 1997.*

  As evidenced by Gratuitous Sax & Senseless Violins highlight ‘Tsui Hark’, the brothers held the director in high esteem. As committed cineastes, the Maels wanted to work with him so much, they didn’t stop to check if the production was to be Tati or simply tatty.

  Opening in September 1998 to damning notices, Knock Off died quietly at the box office, along with hopes of a soundtrack album to house the selection of atmospheric instrumentals that supplemented Hark’s visuals. “It probably wasn’t the best decision, creatively, that we’ve made,” Russell was to say in 2008. The title track, however, would be one of the key tracks on Sparks’ forthcoming album.

  Engineered and mixed by John Thomas and produced and written by the Maels, Balls was recorded over a period of 10 months at Russell’s home studio. After the ornate strings and special guests of Plagiarism, this was to be a back to basics album in the vein of Gratuitous Sax & Senseless Violins.

  With Tammy providing live drums to fill the largely synthetic backings, it is a record with edge and showed a group restless and ready for new challenges. “We’re really opposed to the idea that at a certain point in your career, you’re supposed to mellow things down. For us, it’s almost the opposite,” the brothers told David Hemingway in Record Collector.

  Their rhythmic side needed greater emphasis as the whole music world seemed to have gone dance crazy in the late Nineties. “Balls is a techno album,” Russell said in 2008. “It’s pretty electronic… it has elements that were very reflective of 2000 — like The Prodigy. We really liked the stuff they were doing and some of the rhythmic elements might have seeped into what we were doing, at least subconsciously.”

  With another sniggering title to rank alongside ‘T*ts’ and ‘Goofing Off’, Balls is a record inspired by travel and opulence — very much the zeitgeist — alternating with the Maels’ take on banging techno with surprisingly tender interludes. Although ultimately viewed as a minor addition to the Sparks canon, the album is full of highlights. The title track, especially, is a Ron Mael classic — full-pelt electro behind a double-tracked Russell. A fantastic statement of intent to open their fourth decade in the business, the song’s faux-aggression pays homage to The Prodigy’s controversial ‘Smack My Bitch Up’. (‘It’s Educational’ was also in The Prodigy mode.)

  The smooth dance of the album’s lead single, ‘The Calm Before The Storm’ takes the ‘When Do I Get To Sing “My Way” ‘ formula to its next level; it is most interesting for its vocal breakdown two and a half minutes in, where Russell accompanies himself as a barbershop quartet (an alternate version that was recorded emphasised this section). ‘The Calm Before The Opera’ gave the clearest indication how this idea could be developed in the future. ‘Aeroflot’, with Aksinja Berger providing the voice of the hostess, was to become a live favourite, while ‘How To Get Your Ass Kicked’ features a beautiful, mellow setting with extremely repetitive lyrics; another idea waiting to be developed.

  There was one simple treat left for the end: ‘The Angels’, which became the album’s second single. One of Ron’s unequivocal love songs, unusually for Sparks, it openly uses a profanity (‘fucking’, if you must know).

  The Roadrunner distribution deal had now lapsed, and for their 11th label Sparks went through Independent Recognition Records, distributed by Universal. Released on August 22, 2000, Balls came and went. The album’s main criticism was that it all became a little familiar after a while, with the uptempo numbers lacking the killer kick drum, the big beat that defined the very best millennial dance music. The sleeve didn’t add to the project either — arriving in a choice of four coloured CD jewel cases, with a silver slipcase, which frequently tore in retail racks, featuring a circular cut-out that emphasised the album’s title. The four-page booklet emerged from the coloured sleeve — bearing a moody soft-focus shot of Russell. Designed by Dave Park from an original concept by Ron, it was art but it was anonymous, something you could never accuse previous Sparks designs of being.

  Unlike Sparks’ reappearance in 1994, there seemed to be no head of critical steam. Although The Independent said Balls was “tongue-in-cheek, disco friendly glam-techno crossover,” long-time champions Q decreed that it was “a profound disappointment … few songs lift themselves above pedestrian tedium.” However, what was clear was that Sparks were still committed to being original in their choice of lyrical matter and, even though they were using similar beats to many at this time, they were still adding their own particular invention. Beyond the hardcore however, it seemed that no one cared as Balls sold less than half the number of its predecessor. After the love for Gratuitous Sax & Senseless Violins and the ground lost with Plagiarism, it appeared that Sparks were performing to a void. The situation seemed clear — if you wanted cutting edge techno, you could buy, by way of example, Everything Everything by Underworld; if you were a lapsed Sparks fan, you could always pick up a best of.

  Yet in the background,
Sparks’ presence could be felt; whether being sent up by Vic Reeves and Bob Mortimer on their UK TV show Shooting Stars or being namechecked by Morrissey, their gentle glow in left-field culture shone on. One thing that positively developed as the new millennium got underway was the Sparks fan community. Thanks to the growth of the internet, information and opinion could be scuttled around the globe with a minimum of effort. The sites have been tremendous in promoting the band, and the warmth of the community is evident from the level of welcome and friendship they offer to new fans. Sparks may remain a well-kept secret, but it is one that many are prepared happily to share.

  However opinion is something that the sites are most definitely full of — the sort of place where rumours can be propelled, half-truths propagated, and old folk devils are made even more devilish. One of the latter is Martin Gordon, whose position as Sparks’ pantomime villain seems secure.

  “If you ever had the pleasure of looking at the Sparks Fan Forum thing, you will find that any mention of my name immediately produces either a torrent of abuse or a torrent of non-interest,” Gordon says. “At one point there was a thread called ‘Who is Martin Bleedin’ Gordon?’ and this went on for some weeks and there were some really impassioned pros and cons. If anything pisses me off, it’s that! It’s as if nothing else has ever happened in my life. If that’s what the fan wants to believe, then that’s what the reality is for the fan.”

  Ron and Russell had started to think about where to go next. Their live shows had now become a definite fixture in their approach, and working with Tammy Glover suited them greatly as they had formed a tight playing unit. Sparks’ current live show was a slam-banging mix of greatest hits and over half of the new album, introduced by a witty new anthem, ‘It’s A Sparks Show Tonight’. They took it around the globe — playing LA, London, Germany, Japan and, in January 2001, Australia, where Sparks had enjoyed a good level of success since the mid-Seventies.

  Serendipitously, Knott’s Berry Farm, the long-established amusement park in Buena Park, California, used ‘Cool Places’ in its advertising campaign that year, and provided a well-needed spike in the brothers’ income. With studio time no longer a problem, and thanks to Ron’s intermittently uncanny ability to sixth-sense a situation, Sparks retreated to Russell’s studio to start work on what was to become the greatest album of their career.

  * Faith No More’s storming version of ‘This Town Ain’t Big Enough For Both Of Us’, featuring Russell, reached the UK Top 40 at Christmas 1997.

  * The actual storyline was a shipment of bombs getting mixed up in a container load of counterfeit jeans. Only one person can be called upon to avert disaster — the muscles from Brussels himself, Jean-Claude Van Damme, as ‘king of the knock-offs’ Marcus Ray. High art this was not.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Practising Makes Perfect: Lil’ Beethoven

  “Commercial suicide has seldom sounded more joyous than it does here.”

  Duncan Bell, Muzik magazine 2002

  “Do you want to do something for that A&R guy that you loathe so much or are you going to do something for yourself?”

  Russell Mael, 2003

  With its flurry of sequencers and machines, the commercially disappointing Balls had been a brave work, but it simply felt as if the end of a line had been reached. Even though Sparks played to rapturous crowds, for once, the novelty seemed to have gone. “Balls had the mild air of retread about it,” David Buckley accurately assessed in Mojo. It was clear that for Sparks to develop in their fourth decade together, a radical change of approach was needed.

  “We’ve never been able to bask in the glory of our multi-platinum selling albums, despite being the most influential pop band in history,” Ron stated sardonically. “The situation sucks, but after 30 years we’ve got used to it. It means we can’t be complacent, we have to be progressive.” And progressive was what Sparks were about to be.

  “We actually had a whole album of songs ready to go that was a natural evolution from Balls,” Ron told the author in 2002. “We were seeing what other people were doing — we don’t work in a complete vacuum. We’re aware of the general pop music context, but it seemed that nothing was going on. It’s hard as a songwriter to scrap songs you have written, because each one is a precious gem — but we thought in order to come up with something that was impossible to pigeonhole we had to break out into an area that was uncomfortable.”

  Working for most of 2001 and into 2002, with John Thomas, Tammy Glover and Dean Menta, the brothers sweated and obsessed to find something different; to get the right sound. They decided to dispense with the thing their songs had been synonymous with since the late Seventies — the backbeat. Instead of working with songs and from drum loops, they started from scratch.

  No stone was to be unturned and all clichés were to be avoided. The songs were going to be based around piano, vocal and orchestra. “We eliminated a lot of the rhythmic elements that most people use in pop music,” Ron told the author in 2002. Taking the lead from the choral work on Plagiarism and ‘The Calm Before The Storm’, Russell’s vocals became one of the key instruments on the album — around 75 voices were overlaid. “We wanted to replace the songs’ drive with vocals,” Ron continued. “We wanted it to be aggressive with rhythms and replaced the drums with these massive, aggressive vocal choruses.”

  It was as if he had returned to his 1974 list of how to jam-proof your composition as there was no idea that could have remotely developed from a jam session. Ron was determined to get everything just right. “It was important that the string parts weren’t Moody Blues type-things and that they were driving and edgy.”

  The going was hardly easy with the brothers spending tortuous hours in the studio. “I find that whole process of working excruciating; it’s horrible; they are in the studio for 14 hours a day,” Glover said in 2007. “They love each other, they have harmonious lives with each other and they care deeply about the music but because they care so deeply, there’s huge conflict. It’s not easy at all and it goes on for an incredibly long period of time. These albums take a year, 18 months to record and during this time it’s excruciating. They work seven days a week, 14 hours a day. If you could see the two of them, they are just wrung out by the end of them.” On the final evidence, there was no other way to work. “Lil’ Beethoven was hard to make — it was intense and it sounds it,” Ron said.

  The album was ready by early 2002. As the brothers listened to the finished work, they actually considered releasing it simply under the group name Lil’ Beethoven in order to give it a chance without being pigeonholed. “We wanted to make it consistent, with no concession songs to the outside world,” Russell said. “Then we had to bring variety within that area, to avoid nine songs that were exactly like ‘The Rhythm Thief’. All these things floated around for a solid year. There’s no turning back now. We’ve gained something really strong. We have to just move forward.”

  Everything on Lil’ Beethoven sounded like the most extreme examples of Sparks’ previous work, developed further. ‘The Rhythm Thief’ opens the album and sets its template. For a group that was frequently referred to as a ‘dance duo’, the opening words bade farewell to the rigid beats that had been behind their recent work. The album is not a complete break with the past; ‘I Married Myself’ echoes ‘Falling In Love With Myself Again’ and there is a return to the wild west with the cowboy metaphors in ‘Ride ‘Em Cowboy’. But these tales and observations of life in the 21st century, using classical orchestration, violins, oboes and celestial choirs, made for an unnerving yet melodious experience. The listener is immediately surprised by the album’s texture, which fundamentally consists of walls of voices and keyboards and overall oddity.

  There are so many layers to the album with each song presented as a mini-opera. ‘Your Call Is Important To Us. Please Hold.’, ‘Ugly Guys With Beautiful Girls’, ‘What Are These Bands So Angry About’ and ‘How Do I Get To Carnegie Hall’ have their titles repeated, aggressively and
melodiously, occasionally to the point of distraction. Ron and Russell write about the frustration of being kept on the telephone, ‘complaint rock’ bands and unattractive men with hotties, all surveyed with an amusing weariness. ‘Suburban Homeboy’ is an affectionate swipe at white guys pretending they are from the ‘hood.

  The simplest song on the album, ‘My Baby’s Taking Me Home’, is the best, in a dumb-ass way, and a perfect example of the album’s craft, consisting of the title repeated 104 times with a brief monologue by Russell in the middle. For those who criticised Ron for overwriting in the past, it is almost the ultimate no-brainer while being staggeringly beautiful. It’s like Singin’ In The Rain. It does Busby Berkeley; it does ‘Martha My Dear’. It does poetry and beauty.

  Lil’ Beethoven plays like a concept album in as much as it is difficult not to hear one track without hearing the whole work. “We see it that way,” says Russell. “It isn’t a concept album in terms of narrative, but it does seem you can’t separate any one track. It holds together well as a whole piece. When we were recording it, we didn’t have nine pieces of music prepared; we just went in blindly. We’d done ‘The Rhythm Thief’ and we thought have we shot ourselves in the foot doing something like this? Is anybody going to respond to this? All these things roll around your brain — we weren’t sure if we should follow up on it. We thought we’d do it like Kimono or No.1 — have that spirit. Do you want to do something for that A&R guy that you loathe so much or are you going to do something for yourself? Musically, things are really bland now — and it’s not just a case of age — it’s not that there’s nothing, but the bar rises higher and higher on your threshold for being inspired by something. We didn’t want to leave anyone hearing it unmoved — whether in a good or bad way.”