by Karina Teichert (@i.d.kt)
You stagger through the Arctic tundra, shielding your eyes against a probing sun as snow pierces your coat. A chill slips slowly down your spine. All you can see for miles is soft white; you have no choice but to press on and hope for some semblance of human contact. Either that, or a quick death. Maybe something involving wolves.
Off in the distance, the grating twinkle of 80s pop synths pierces the silence. You hear a man’s voice ring out: “I went to Balboa Island and laid in the sand.” Hope comes surging through your body, hot and renewed. Congratulations: you have just discovered the band Sparks.
Sparks by Karina Teichert, edited by Victoria Register
Ok, so maybe that’s not exactly how it happened. Maybe I actually heard “I Wish I Looked a Little Better” at a party and prodded the host until they told me the name of the song and the artist. Hearing the words “I went to high school and majored in looking real bad” over a bluetooth speaker at a crowded house party would be enough to jolt even Queen Elizabeth back to life. If they were this good over a tinny JBL, I knew I had to see Sparks live.
Much to my chagrin, the Mael brothers didn’t play “I Wish I Looked a Little Better” at their September 5th show in Atlanta. They did, however, play almost every other hit from throughout their impressive 54-year careers. Apt, considering this was their “Greatest Hits” tour.
The Tabernacle is one of Atlanta’s two seated concert venues, which often proves a pretty significant energy hurdle for artists. How do you get a crowd on its feet when they could just as easily choose to sit and relax, especially without an opener? Of course, Sparks had no trouble. Whether out of reverence for their legacy, or simply because “Do Things My Own Way” is too good not to dance to, the crowd warmed up fast.
Russell Mael, vocalist and younger brother, skillfully guided the audience through the soaring highs of “Reinforcements” and the sobering realities of “Please Don’t Fuck Up My World.” What was Ron Mael, older brother and keyboardist, doing, you ask? Sitting rigidly, playing his keyboard with an angular, exaggerated staccato, and staring directly ahead at us (the audience) like we owed him money. There were some questions in the crowd about age; folks were wondering if this was all he had the energy for.
That is, until the sound of horns trumpeted overhead, whereupon Ron stood straight up, put on a black baseball cap, walked carefully to the center of the stage, and began rapping the words to “Suburban Homeboy.” The crowd positively erupted. Once the song was over, he set the mic down, walked back to his seat, and resumed his original position. Any doubts about Ron’s vivacity were put immediately to rest. That’s the thing about Sparks: you never really know what they’re going to do next, but you know they’ll do it with a wink and a smile.