Sparks Spectacular: In Outer Space (1983)

By a-anne

In Outer Space is a creepy record. Sure it’s gloriously danceable, but it’s creepy. It’s like Less Than Zero set to music: all air-headed teenage bliss, girls, sex, insecurities, and parties galore: “Let’s meet the rest of our friends/At a place that’s called/I forget what it’s called/But it’s really great/And all our friends will be there.” The undercurrent of menace that threads through the album manifests itself in “Dance Goddammit,” arguably the darkest song ever set to record, but Sparks being Sparks, one still possible to dance to, even if you feel a little coerced into it.

And what a dance. Every single song on the album lends itself perfectly to the Russell Bop: skipping frenetically from one foot to another whilst swinging arms back and forth in an over-exaggerated manner, and incorporating the occasional twirl when things get really exciting, like a badly-choreographed aerobics session. I’d vouch for it being the greatest dance ever, possibly even surpassing the Ron Shuffle. While Russell himself may have stopped indulging in it long ago, it doesn’t stop me (and quite a few others) from having a go in public. Not that it’s so public anymore, as these gigs became a private party for about 400 hardcore fans about a week ago. No one minds a little embarrassment in front of friends.

The big question of tonight’s performance was who was going to perform Jane Wiedlin’s duet parts in “Cool Places” and “Lucky Me, Lucky You.” As it turns out, the answer was no one—and rightfully so. If it couldn’t be Jane, it wouldn’t really work with anyone else. Russell the vocal superhero copes just fine, and with eunuch-voiced sidekicks Jim and Marcus, both songs on the album bop along all honeyed and glowing. “Popularity” sees a whole audience singing along to the synth line in the middle eight. People are so happy that they even go a little crazy for “Praying For A Party.” Or maybe people just like that song. It’s never done it for me, but it chugs on through with its totally singable chorus being all rousing and irritatingly persuasive.

“All You Ever Think About Is Sex!” The greatest synth pop song ever written! I danced. It’s telling when you’re only twenty minutes into a concert and you’ve got leg cramps already. The Russell Bop is deceivingly exhausting. The gods being as good as they are, “Please Baby Please” is the slowest track on the album, and demands exuberant singing but very little dancing. By the time Russell announces, “This song’s called. . . ‘Rockin’ Girls’,” everyone’s refreshed and ecstatically bopping around again at the prospect of hearing one of the greatest Sparks songs live. Russell mangles the lyrics a little, but at least he gets “Come on baby!” right, which is obviously the most important part. Once the song ends, the entire audience spontaneously yells, “Yeahhh!” immediately before showering them with applause and eternal gratitude. We are having a Good Time.

“Dress for success/That’s what they say/Give me some clothes to slap over my head”—it’s impressive when lyrics can still make you laugh when you’re hearing them for the hundredth time. Another sing along, ending in a 400-person-strong “LET’S GO!” and by the time we’ve got through “I Wish I Looked A Little Better,” the applause is deafening. “A Fun Bunch Of Guys From Outer Space” passes gleefully, and in the context of watching the Maels pull out their most sunshine L.A.-centric tracks in a gloomy London rock venue, is almost convincing.

And then it’s that horrendous beast of a song, “Dance Godammit.” Don’t get me wrong; it’s an underrated masterpiece. It swaggers; it sounds as horny as hell. When Russell eyeballs the audience, intoning “Do you wanna dance?” you know it’s not a question but a roundabout imperative. Frightening and somehow so wholesome.

They encore with “Sports,” the b-side to “Cool Places” and we damn well dance. The audience cheers throughout the verses and choruses. . . we more or less just cheer throughout the whole thing. “One more time for a healthy body! One more time for a healthy mind! One more time for no good reason!” Just to prove their point, at the moment the song ends Russell dashes onstage with a custard pie. Just as we’re in full party mode, they terrify us, and just when we’re scared enough, they bring on the slapstick. With the infamous album cover projected high above their heads, he gently, astonishingly, tenderly, lobs it at Ron. The crowd goes wild, a little guiltily, but it’s probably safe to assume he’s more than used to it by now. “You got an extra bonus,” drawls Ron. After a gig like that, it’s not like we needed one, but having proved themselves the most generous band in history, who minds them going one further?