Burning Light

May 26 2006

Reasons to Be Cheerful Because of Old People, Part VI

Man, I never saw this album coming.... Heck, I wasn't even looking for it.... Anyway....

Conceived in a otherworldly kingdom where Brian Wilson is king, Queen and XTC live together in perfect harmony, and Weird Al is court jester given free rein to venture well beyond the bounds of good taste, Sparks (aka brothers Ron and Russell Mael) have alternately delighted, amused, annoyed, bored, and fascinated the heck out of us for some 35 years and 20 albums now.

Still, who knew they still had an album like this in them? I sure didn't, let alone in an album so inauspiciously (yet typically) titled something like Hello Young Lovers. And yet, this may very well be the best album they've ever made. In any case, I have to declare this my favorite release so far this year.

One particularly obvious aspect of this album that's either fascinating or maddening, depending on yr view, is the incessant repetition of a given line throughout a lot of the songs here. For my part, I don't think it's just laziness (the thankfully brief penultimate track, "There's No Such Thing As Aliens," notwithstanding) -- there's definitely a cumulative effect that's achieved here. And it's not like the brothers Mael haven't pulled this trick off before (see "Equator," "Dance Goddammit," et al., or again, ad nauseam depending on yr perspective).

Contrasted with the often minimalistic (yet often witty) lyrics is the often symphonic sound that rises up throughout this album. It's safe to say that this is one of most musically ambitious albums of Sparks' long and curious career. These guys are playing for no-one but themselves, and they're clearly digging on it. (That said, if someone told me this album was a huge hit in Europe, it wouldn't surprise me in the least.)

Another thing that will thrill old-time Sparks fans is that, for the first time in years, the guitars are back. This becomes amply clear about two-thirds into the kitchen-sink symphony that IS the unfortunately titled opener, "Dick Around," a seven-minute whine of a corporate has-been which literally goes from angelic harmonies (which deliver the refrain "All I do now is dick around") which to symphonic vocal-keyboard to dance-hall to placid interlude, back to symphonic, and at last into the aforementioned guitar blasts that'd send the Trans-Siberian Orchestra running for cover, and back again to symphonies and harmonies simultaneously to rah-rah cheer to every danged facet you've just read about at once. You've never heard anything quite like it. Actually, kinda you have: it's called "Bohemian Rhapsody." Not that it's the same song by any stretch, but it's the same anything-goes approach from a very similar arsenal (it's no coincidence that Sparks' most popular album, Kimono My House, came out only a year before the arrival of their fellow pop-operatic glam-rockers "Rhapsody").

"Perfume," the single, is a mock-string-laden keyboard-rockabilly (I know, I know....) litany of girls who wear various types of perfume (except for Russ' girl), perfectly dismissed in the spoken bridge:

Susan wears St. Laurent
Janie wears L'Air du Temps
Kirstin wears Davidoff
But you don't wear no perfume....

The olfactory sense is the sense
that most strongly evokes memories of the past
Well -- screw the past
That's why I want to spend my life with you
That's why I want to spend my life with you
That's why I want to spend my life with you
That's why I want to spend my life with you...

"The Very Next Fight" is a lament to a lack of self-control, wherein the lyrical repetition and overlay of those repetitions ("What you want is what I want," and rather appropriately, "It's always the same") really becomes quite noticeable, one way or the other. Again, either you'll roll with it and get shaken up, or you'll hit the advance button.

The brothers take a rare venture into political territory (or at least into extreme military-sexual metaphor) with "(Baby Baby) Can I Invade Your Country." A catchy western-style slap-and-tickle rhythm that makes you wanna yell "yeeee-hawww!!!" pushes things along, as it lyrically moves deftly along from a series of banal questions and statements "I'll wait for your answer/ But while I am waiting / I may as well ask ya / What's your favorite song?... / Your favorite Beatle / Has always been Ringo / The least outspoken, apolitical one") to the banality of war and/or casual sex itself ("I need the enjoyment / Of rapid deployment / I need a decision / I'm waitin' for -- Move 'em out! / Can I invade your country? / Oh baby baby, can I invade your country?")

"Rock Rock Rock".... well, doesn't, and isn't meant to. (Whatever shortcomings they have, the Maels have seldom come up short on the irony front.) Actually, it's downright classical-and I mean big classical-even as Russ pleads to a departing lover, "And since you've put a gun to my head / I will rock, rock, rock / Don't leave me, don't leave me, don't leave me, don't leave me / I will rock, rock, rock / Like a mother, like a mother, like a mother, like a mother...."

"Metaphor" is another catchy pop tune, this time around a simple piano riff that slowly grows in scope, with yet more pointed observation:

A metaphor is a glorious thing
A diamond ring, the first day of summer
A metaphor is a breath of fresh air
A turn-on, an aphrodisiac
Chicks dig, dig, D-I-G, dig, dig metaphors

Use them wisely
Use them well
And you'll never know the hell
Of loneliness.

Back to some more familiar territory for "Waterproof." Melodically it recalls their earlier '80s hit "Tips for Teens," only here the pop is rendered at turns baroque, circus-tent, then at last the flat-out pop that marked "Teens." Only here, the singer who had just promised us to rock, rock, rock and warded off the hell of loneliness is vowing not the let the girl who walked out affect him: "The rain just falls off of me / The tears just fall off of me / 'Cause I'm waterproof, I'm waterproof / Water, water everywhere but not a drop on me." You'll be pogoing by the end of this puppy -- promise.

Things come down a couple notches before the end. "Here Kitty" is largely an exercise in repetition and musical (and feline) overlay, albeit with some curious scatting to go along with it. Think: Steve Reich dragging Mel Torme along to help Todd Rundgren record "Onomatopoeia." Certainly interesting, if nothing else. "There's No Such Thing as Aliens," on the other hand, is just plain repetitive, largely without the interesting part (although it's hard to ignore the swelling strings and guitar behind this endless refrain).

The seven-minute closer, "As I Sit Down to Play the Organ at the Notre Dame Cathedral" is as ambitious as it sounds (and every bit as ambitious as this album started out, for that matter), and the lyrical collision of faith and lust within does nothing to offset that. When the, um, "Hallelujah" chorus starts banging its way in, you're not quite sure which way it's supposed to be directed. Just go ahead and experience this one for yourself. You'll either thank me or hate me. You know, like usual.

Posted by: burninglight at 17:53 | link | comments (3)

Comments:

#1 31 May 2006 - 17:38

Sparks!!!?? My goodness I haven't thought of them in years. Will have to amazon this stuff and check it out. Hey have you heard the band What Made Milwaukee Famous? Lousy name, I know, but I saw them on Austin City Limits last weekend and was blown away. Will punkrock 'em after a little more research and my Dixie Chicks piece.