THE MAEL BROTHERS ARE BACK, DOING WHAT THEY DO BEST. BUT THIS TIME OUT, IS THERE A SENSE OF DÉJÀ VU WITH SOME OF THEIR TRADEMARK ECCENTRICITIES?
ISLAND
Though they weren’t exactly absent during the 21st Century’s first decade – as recent reissues of five commercially fruitless albums attest – it feels in contrast like, for the last half decade or so, Sparks have barely been out of the spotlight. The seeming ubiquity began when Franz Ferdinand reminded us of their indispensability with 2015’s collaborative FFS project, and it peaked over the last couple of years with Edgar Wright’s documentary, those aforementioned reissues and, of course, Annette, their recent quasi rock opera film.
Naturally, the world – or at least the UK – has welcomed this renaissance, with Sparks’ last two albums going Top 10. But, given the sometimes-formulaic nature of their songwriting, the Maels’ appeal is in danger perhaps of wearing a little thin through overexposure. Back on Island for the first time since the year punk broke, they’re still employing many of the same tricks they did during their original residency on the label. Something like the title track, as effective and engaging as it is, could have lined up alongside Kimono My House’s Amateur Hour in 1974.
Still, there’s little wrong and plenty to be admired on their 26th album, with its eccentricities, both musical and lyrical, coming thick and fast. In fact, taken in smaller doses, it’s hard to resist, what with the absurdity of the poignant Veronica Lake, the satirical Not That Well-Defined and the surreally thrilling Take Me For A Ride.
Furthermore, one would be hard pushed to think of other artists who’d compose We Go Dancing, which addresses Kim Jong Un’s DJ skills – “Skrillex, maybe Diplo, they’ve got nothing on our dude” – let alone arrange it in a Stravinsky style, and even fewer who’d follow it with When You Leave, about the departure of an unloved individual as eager to outstay their welcome as others are to see them go: “I’m gonna stay,” Russell sings with deceptive innocence, “Just to piss them off.”
It’s their dependence on repetition which ultimately risks becoming monotonous, not to mention, depending on one’s tolerance for slapstick, their fondness for musical one-liners. Escalator and It’s Sunny Today are simple ideas stretched out into entire songs.
Indeed, by The Girl Is Crying In Her Latte’s final tracks, fatigue raises its head. If the Maels weren’t so weirdly endearing, the closing Gee, That Was Fun’s pragmatically regretted broken relationship might rarely be reached at all.
T
