Sparks Spectacular: Hello Young Lovers
Posted in Concert Reviews, Music, Reviews, Sparks Spectacular |In what has to be one of Sparks’ greatest opening songs of all time, the overblown, quasi-operatic, rocking “Dick Around” blasted out first. Ron bashed his “Ronald” keyboard, while Russell prowled the stage and sung with all the dramatic license the song affords. “Perfume” followed, Russell clicked his fingers like a suave lothario as he reeled out the litany of women’s names and their purchased scents. . . but even though he remembers them all, they are in the past. . . and as the audience unanimously agreed, “Screw the past!” During the dark “The Very Next Fight,” a song all about self-lacerating ego and insecurity, Ron leaves the keyboard to stage a battle with a virtual Ron on the projection screen, landing a series of perfectly-timed punches until he aims the fatal blow that sends his alter ego flying. . . until the next time.
Like the stage show for Lil’ Beethoven, here the projection screen acts as an alternate world where Ron interacts with various projected media in a hyper-formalized style not unlike the silent screen comedians Charles Chaplin or Harold Lloyd—all of which adds a delightful but nonetheless unsettling element to these songs and highlights the intensely dark humor which has always been an integral part of Sparks’ music. A joyous send-up of macho and nationalist presumptions, “(Baby, Baby) Can I Invade Your Country?” is next, accompanied by a projected army of marching Russells.
Photo © Daniel Gray @Dead By Sunrise
The next song, “Rock, Rock, Rock,” is, for me, one of the night’s highlights. Ron straps on a guitar, leers menacingly, and throws various pseudo-rock star poses while the music mercilessly cranks out. Counterpointing this, Russell vows (scout’s honor) to “Rock! Rock! Rock!” then pleads “don’t leave me” and cradles himself “like a mother.” The song is all at once a damning indictment of conceding to the tide of soulless “rock” formulas and a genuine rock song that discovers its hardness through this very indictment. Two giant speakers are projected on screen, their brand names are “Russell” and “Ron” and, as the guitar screeches its feedback, the speakers shake and start to self-destruct.
“Metaphor” follows and, once again, Russell adopts the pose of a smooth lothario. “Chicks dig metaphors” you know? “Use them wisely use them well and you will never know the hell of loneliness.” The audience joins in and sings along at the key moments:
Russell asks: Who’s up for a metaphor?
We answer: We’re up for a metaphor!
Russell asks: Are you chicks up for a metaphor?
We (including all the men in the audience) answer: Yes, we’re up for a metaphor!
Click to read. . .
The rest of Elizabeth McCarthy’s review
Claire Schofield’s review