Sparks in London - Indiscreet as the wanna be

It's just by luck that my holiday overseas coincided with one of the coolest retro concert ideas I'd heard about it a long time, namely that the godfathers of American quirk, Sparks, were when I was in town, playing each of their 21 albums over a 21 night span at the Carling Academy in Islington. What luck since here in Boston, Sparks could maybe fill a room of 200 for one night (or alternately my living room for 5 nights), an idea they haven't bothered to pursue in at least 20 years. The irony of flying to another country to see a band from LA is not lost on me, but still, we do what we have to do to see the rock.

Carling Academy Islington isn't much like the venues I go to at home. The key difference being that Carling Academy Islington is in a mall. Like, next to The Gap and across from the Starbucks, there is the venue. Very weird. And weirder still is the fact that although it's been here for a decade or so (according to my London friend Douglas), the interior has hardly been fixed up; you know, like a nightclub might be? The ceiling is a mishmash of exposed wiring and pipes, but not a cool looking mishmash like the outside of the Pompidou, just a big ugly unfinished room. Thankfully, we can hardly see any of its ugliness tonight though because the place is literally stuffed to the brim with men between the ages of 40 and 59 (and an occasional friend) who have by all appearances been waiting since 1975 to see the band play their Indiscreet album tonight.

It's possible I've never been at a show this crowded in my life, nor one where literally everyone in the audience is singing along with every line to every song, but that's what tonight's show is like. And rather than that being as annoying as it sounds, it is actually deeply heartwarming. In front of me a man trailing grey curls pokes his balding friend and jumps up and down for every song while behind me a lipsticked young goth sips her drink and rolls her eyes, but for this moment we are all one in loving some Sparks.

On stage, the Mael brothers look older, and they should, what with the pair being somewhere around 60 the idea they're even on stage at all is pretty amazing. Better yet is that fact that they still both have a full head of hair (I'm old, we notice these things) and look rather (haggard yet) stylish. For a little over and hour the pair (along with a band that includes Steven McDonald from Redd Kross) really do kick out the jams. Of course for Ron this involves his standard stock still pose (some things never change) and for Russell a lot of traipsing about in a gangster-style pinstriped suit which makes him look quite dignified. Old rockers + suits = yes in my book. The album is played, as advertised, in order front to end, while video projections of the album's cover (showing the brothers having just escaped from a plane crash) spins behind them (except during Pineapple, when a picture of the fruit does the same). At the end of the night the assembled throng all sing a happy birthday to the numerous band members who are celebrating their special day in the coming week and then a chant goes up: "RON, RON, RON, RON" which provokes the stoic Mael to a turn at the mic, clutching it as the younger Mael clutches a dozen roses someone has thrown on stage. "We locked ourselves away for 4 months, and we had no idea how this would turn out..." "AMAZING!" a voice from the audience shouts. The Maels leave the stage and then return to say how it means so much to them that people are excited about the shows. Am I the only one in the crowd who is verklempt? I think not. Worth waiting 33 years for? Definitely.



Above: Sparks open the Indiscreet show with Hospitality on Parade
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