A
gig report that I never in a million years thought I would ever write, but one
I'm so glad I'm doing...
When
my brother mentioned last year that he was listening to an album that was
blowing him away, I was surprised to hear it was by Sparks! Sparks, the 70s
glam mavericks turned Giorgio Moroder-inspired disco divas, led by the madcap
Mael brothers, Russell (he of the mass of curly hair, nervous energy and
operatic helium falsetto) and Ron (he of the manic stare, non-communicative
persona and Chaplin moustache)? Surely not! But Sparks it was, and said album “Hippopotamus”
was a completely fun glory box of vaudevillian tunes, keyboard-propelled glam
and convoluted lyrical silliness, apparently continuing a recent creative
renaissance for the band, which had also seen them collaborate with Franz
Ferdinand under the catchy handle of FFS! We’d just missed the Bristol leg of
their 2017 tour, but when they announced a small 2018 reprise, we gleefully sorted
tickets for the (eventually sell-out) London gig.
Leaving
work early and driving to my brother’s, we then hit the road promptly, a good
run seeing us decide to drive all the way, then slightly regretting that
decision as A40 traffic delayed our arrival. Still, there and parked up before
doors, and thanks to my O2 mobile contract, we joined the priority queue, snagging
an excellent viewing spot down the front, house right. Chatted away the time
before opener Mr. B The Gentleman Rhymer, on at 8. Somewhat of a niche act,
this guy; a beatbox-backed, banjo playing mustachio'd toff straight out of “Jeeves
And Wooster”, with song titles such as “They Don't Allow Rappers In The
Bullingdon Club”, he was actually quite an apposite support choice, warming up
the crowd nicely with some quickfire erudite lyricism, light-hearted and entertaining
banter (“anyone fancy hearing a punk rock song about the National Trust? [Yes?]
I’ve got my audience spot-on here…!”) and a Bavarian oompah version of
Kraftwerk’s “The Model” (!). I mostly missed his subsequent cover of Bowie's “Starman”
due to a loo trip, but overall this was a fun and diverting opener.
Kept
our front spots and I did my best to ignore the annoying woman practically
jumping into my back pocket, as the roadies laid out quite the biggest set-list
this side of that blind Bunny McCulloch, next to Ron Mael's keyboard. Honestly,
any bigger and they may as well have embroidered the set onto a blanket...! Heroic
fanfare backing music and back lit cluster lights then heralded Sparks’ arrival
just after 9; first the back rows, decked out in matching pastel pink denim
jackets, then Ron, resplendent in white shirt, pink tie and enormous
pantaloons, and finally Russell, bounding onstage in black, topped with a pink
bombardier jacket. Opener “What The Hell Is It This Time” chugged along with
sinuous purpose, much fuller and tougher-sounding than on record, setting tonight’s
tone perfectly; the backing band were impressively in sync throughout,
providing the perfect base for Ron’s staccato one-note keyboard refrains and
Russell’s impressively energetic performance and ball-strangling yet tuneful
vocals. Damn, Russell looked good for 69, putting a shift in that a man half
his age would've been proud of!
An
early “Tryouts For The Human Race” was tremendous, featuring that bubbling
Moroder synth and a soaring yet eerie hook; “Missionary Position”, my favourite
from the new album was epic and widescreen, yet played with “Carry On”-esque
tongue-in-cheek humour, and an unexpected “I Wish You Were Fun” was a jaunty
fairground singalong ditty, with Russell skipping about the stage energetically
leading the audience in the “la la la la la’s”. A snatch of the old standard
“My Way” led into an excellent “When Do I Get To Sing “My Way”?”, all huge,
pulsating drama. But the 2 real highlights were to come; the coruscating, hi
NRG synth pattern to a soaring “Number One Song In Heaven”, which saw Ron Mael
abandon his keyboards during the break, perform a goony dance to the general
astonishment of all, then return, gently dabbing his brow; and a brilliant version
of “This Town Ain’t Big Enough For The Both Of Us”, Sparks’ debut single (!)
which fully deserves a place alongside the likes of “Roadrunner” and Surrender”
as a bona fide all time rock classic.
Not
perfect by any means (“Rhythm Thief” was somewhat wearing, and I’d have liked
to see the set end after “Town”, rather than the subsequent throwaway “My
Baby’s Taking Me Home”), but a tremendous set, with the emphasis on fun and
entertainment. A 3 song encore showcasing splendidly undulating oldie “Amateur
Hour” capped the performance, after which the Mael brothers took their bows,
offered fulsome thanks (Ron even reluctantly taking the mic to praise the crowd
for their support through the years), and took selfies with the crowd before
departing, the deserved ovation still ringing around the hall.
Set-lists
for both the Rose boys too (!), then, after a quick catch-up with old Lev mate
Colin outside, plus a signature from Sparks’ guitarist Eli Pearl (who
complimented my XTC t-shirt!), we headed off, into a truly nightmarish journey
home; 2 banks of immovable traffic on the A40M leading into 3-into-1 roadworks,
an M4 Junction 2 closure necessitating a diversion via Heathrow, thereby taking
us 1 ½ hours to do the 16 miles from venue to motorway (!), then 2 further lots
of slow roadworks on the M4 and a threat of J10-J11 closure which eventually
proved not to be the case (but which briefly saw my by-then apoplectic brother
threaten to abandon the journey and get a Travelodge!). Total fucking carnage.
Nevertheless, despite all these setbacks (which saw me hitting home at a
red-eyed 2 am), we agreed on one thing… if we’d known the journey was going to
be this horrendous, we’d have still done it anyway. Hell yeah. I’m just sorry
it took so long for me to see Sparks, and I hope it won’t be the last time!
No comments:
Post a Comment