SPARKS: From Taco Bell To Fish 'n' Chips

“Doris Day’s Sons In Town To Play Concert” read the dynamic headline in Copenhagen. “There was this rumor going around Europe that we were Doris Day’s sons. We don’t know how it got started. Anyway, the Danish Press wrote up this headline,” explains Sparks’ curly-haired Mael brother, Russell. “Later we got a call from Doris Day’s publishing company saying that they had a lot of money for her and would we like to come arourid and pick it up.” Well, the brothers did own up to their true identities. (The mustachioed Ron adds, “Honesty is the best policy.” Good, Ron.) But it is comforting to know that a lot of other people are also confused about Sparks and the mysterious Mael brothers.

Until recently, I was under the common misconception that Sparks embodied a strictly English brand of oddness. You know.. .they just looked, it. The fact of the matter is that, .while their supporting players are all English, the Mael brothers are as Southern California as taco stands. They are U.C.L.A. graduates—Ron majoring in graphic arts, Russell in drama, and were residents of Pacific Palisades until they moved to England two years ago. Goaded on by “pushy” parents, the boys were even child models for the good ol’ Sears catalogue. Their psychic roots are strictly Amerjcan, specifically Californian, and they’re proud of it. They maintain that, even now, the music they first pursued as a hobby in college is* absolutely borne of the ’60’s Los Angeles scene.

21 year old Russell lights up as he talks about the Beach Boys and Jan and Dean. “Musically and lyrically they were both really on the ball, reflecting what, was going on without being preachy. Just talking about hamburgers and stuff in really exciting songs.” Older brother Ron (he’s 26) Concurs. The mysterioso continental image drops away, supplanted by just another pair of crazy show-off kids from L A. Ron and Russell Mael, indeed, have no message—no propaganda. “The only message,” says Ron, “is to listen and get the next record we come out with.” And to have a good time. “All those Li A. bands in the ’60’s were fun. They were just fun to listen to. Y6u really didn’t think about it all that much. It’s really impossible to be that way today without being studied, but we’re trying.”

Sparks music is frantic with a jackedup boys’ choir on tojD—can this be rock ‘n’ roll? Isn’t it something more akin to a strange fusion of Focus, ELP and the ‘‘art rock” pretensions of Roxy Music? “We were brought up listening to rock records, and that’s where our real interest lies.” Ron is adamant about this. “One thing I don’t like is.. .well, I won’t mention any nalmes...but classically trained musicians coming over into the rock world late on in.” Russell shares his brothers strong commitment to unadulterated rock and defends Sparks on this count. “We’re more a part of rock than Elton Johrt, cause I think we understand” he tells me. “We have more of a rock mentality. His sort of thing seems more Las Vegasy.” In general, the Maels feel that they’re working out of the grand tradition of rock ‘n’ roll outrageousness, though Russ confesses that Ron seems to have paradoxically struck a chord with English parents because of his appearance. “All these fourteen year old girls come up and say to me lI’m just mad about you Russell’ and the next line is always, ‘And me Mum, she likes Ron>’” “Yes, sometimes it is a bit hard to be outrageous,” Ron allows.

And what about Ron’s peculiar getup? Sitting in the corner of the Howard Johnson’s Motel restaurant, in front of the plastic floral arrangement and next to his dapper, trendy David Essexlookalike brother, Ron tries hard to explain his appearance as simply what he feels most comfortable in. But he is grinning. “A deep dark secret,” he confides, “is that I did once own a pair of satin trousers and a pair of high-heeled boots, many, many years ago. ,But I felt like an idiot wearing them. In England I was able to find things and a way of looking that was natural to me.” Sure he looks natural, about as natural as your average Fuhrer or some sort of anal-retentive British accountant. But Ron insists. “People say to me, ‘C’mon, what do you wear at home... just between the two of us?^ When I’m there in the flat and the man comes to check the electricity meter I’ve still got the crappy oF tie on.’*

Natural or not, ^hen the two brothers are up there on stage and Russell trots over to merrily taunt his somber and oblivious brother, the contrast really works. A straight man and a cut-up—-it’s the old show biz formula that the Maels play to perfection, .though it was a little hard at first convincing others that the gimmick Would work. “Ironically enough,” says Ron, “when I first got the Famous Haircut of 1974, or whenever it was, everyone said, ‘Oh, God! What did you do??? You were so perfect. Two brothers who had that sort of long curly hair—great gimmick!’ And no one would look me in the eye. Out manager was rea//y upset. It was like I had murdered my mother or something.”

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Of course, the proof of the ploy will be in the Making It. Certainly the string of hit singles Sparks have had in Europe indicates they’re doing something right. And the idolatry that greets them in France, where they are currently at work on a movie With director Jacques Tati, is, at least, a measure of...how weird the French are? All that acclaim is nice, but, financially, the real market to crack is the U.S. Even though America dealt them a hearty rejection for their first album on Bearsville, when they were known as Halfnelson, and seconded that rejection when the record was repackaged (and a sequel, A Woofer in Tweeter’s Clothing) under the narrib Sparks, it lopks like the band may be making it here this time around. Kimono My House, with a heavy push from a new record company, (Island), turned out to be a cult item of 1974. And Propaganda, their latest LP, may make an even better showing, especially if the single^ “Achoo,” goes over as the novelty hit they’re hoping for. The recent tour was a substantial and surprising success. “There are a lot of Sparks fans out there,” says Russell, “who came to see us and really knew our material,” Concert audiences certainly seem to be enjoying the music— which iis heavier and packs more punch live than it does on record^-and are readily picking up on the spirit of the stage show. j

Midway through one of Ron’s brief piano solos at their recent Detroit concert, a guy in the third row let loose with a boogie shout “Kick ass. Hitler!” h6 yelled, and the rest of the young audience whistled and cheered. Ron was gratified. The people were picking up on a-Sparks identity. The audience was distinguishing them .from all the lookalike rock stars Ron first encountered when he and Russell moved to England. He feels it’s necessary to add, “I know thaL when someone says, ‘Kick ass, Hitler!’ they’re doing it in an affectionate way...as affectionate as you can be when you tell someone else to kick ass, Hitler.”

Ron chuckles. He knows that things are going well arid is fairly well satisfied that the Sparks blitzkrieg has begun.