Sometimes, a band writes your review for you. So it is with Sparks. Second song in tonight, they play one from their new album—a rocky affair called “Do Things My Own Way”—and honestly, since 1972, isn’t that exactly what the Mael Brothers have done?
Fifty-three years on from that debut, they’re here, finishing their European tour in Wolverhampton to a crowd that can only be described as ecstatic.
What that means is that from the start—cleverly, they use “May We Start” to do just that—this is a euphoric conclusion to things.
Whether it’s from the early days, like the slow-building fun of “Reinforcements”, or from their disco period, as per “Academy Award Performance”, it is just magnificently bonkers.
So they oompah their way through “Goofing Off”, they disco their way through “Beat the Clock”—which comes complete with a brilliant light show—and there’s even a bit of social commentary on “Please Don’t Fuck Up My World” (“We wrote this in 2019 when we thought things couldn’t get any worse…” says Russell Mael wryly).
The younger brother, clad in an incredible suit, is full of energy, but Russell Mael steals the show twice: first on “Suburban Homeboy”, when he takes the vocals, and then a little later with his usual, quite astonishing dance during “The Number One Song in Heaven”.
Elsewhere, the brilliant band behind them shouldn’t be neglected either. Evan Weiss and Eli Pearl are front and centre during “Drowned in a Sea of Tears”, and they’re magnificent again on “Music You Can Dance To”, which doesn’t half sound like it belongs in a Berlin underground sex club at 3am.
Let’s be honest, there are more standing ovations here than there will be at the party conferences this autumn, and the adulation continues for “When Do I Get to Sing ‘My Way'”.
They build the set to a wonderful crescendo with the glam-slam of “This Town Ain’t Big Enough for the Both of Us”.
Hard rock riffs abound on “Whippings and Apologies”, and the set ends with another new song, “Nothing Is As Good as They Say It Is”.
They’re soon back for an encore, and it’s typical of them that they do so not with a recognised classic, but with a couple from the newer end of things: “The Girl Is Crying in Her Latte” and then “All That”.
And like the sentiment at the start, about them writing reviews for you, the hook line to “…That” gives you your ending: “All that and more.”
That’s what Sparks do. That’s what they did here. They are unlike anything else you’ll ever see. And after 50-odd years, they remain compelling, quirky—and, above all, incredibly entertaining.
