SPARKS

[admiralhalfnelson]

Ally, Indiscreet is probably my favourite album.

I had no idea the fandom was as mixed about it at one time as the critics were. It didn't sound "Sparks enough" apparently, long before they dabbled in every genre and even made some of their own!
_________________
Horatio ~ the future Mr. Mael ~ Peace, love and

~23/5/18~

https://discord.gg/Hruaj6D ~ Sparks Discord

[Turtle152]

[SteveBoyce]

I was at that Big Beat concert and thought it was brilliant live, a complete revelation.
Everbody’s Stupid is one of my favourite sparks songs, lyrically.

[allydodd]

So to the title of this thread, that special show that inspired the reminiscence.

Ten years to the day, Sparks are back in London playing a sell out concert showcasing a new album, which had made top ten in the UK. Sparks and their fans could hardly have wished for anything better. And the memory of that gig was in the mind of those lucky enough to have been able to attend "Introducing Sparks", in a somewhat smaller venue, just further south in Islington.

All through 21x21 a lady, who looked like a survivor from the punk era, stood outside the venue handing out leaflets for upcoming pop concerts, with a brisk efficiency that always managed to catch all of us. We never spoke though though a typified polite thank you is envisaged. Ten years on, the same lady places a leaflet with Toyah's face into my paw while queuing outside the Kentish Town Forum. Different hair colour evokes that line from Change.

At the bar of The Assembly House, I am pleased to see one of the faces of 21x21. Then, a teenager who impressed with an encyclopaedia knowledge of pop, especially Sparks. Opening jacket, he proudly reveals a yellow Hawaiian shirt. It is a big surprise. I am beaming like the sunny, massively missed lady, two oceans away, who gifted it.

The evening previous, ten years ago, the once neglected Big Beat had gained its identity as "the rock album" thanks in some way to the imaginative fans but more substantially to the passionate musicianship of messers Wilson, Blake, McDonald and Nistor.

For the next album, that endearing champion of Sparks from Hawaii had relabelled it "the surf album", which sparked infectious adoption. With a certain marvel, I witnessed her dragging out brightly coloured shirt after shirt from her big battleship grey suitcase on dinky wheels. Already a recipient of a handmade t-shirt, pictures that night show me wearing black opaque (prescription) sunglasses. How did I see in the dark interior of the venue? Before the show, in the bustle of the Eddie, everyone was gleefully trying on Hawaiian shirts for size. In spite of the paleness of wearers, rather a lot happened to suit them too!

Flash forward back to last week's gig. We're in a crowd outside the Kentish Town Forum. Someone says, "she was one of the nicest things about the twenty one shows." Nodding.

Word from the box office was that the sales for Introducing Sparks were down from the previous night. Certainly there were several hundred there, though space at the back. And, the front rows soon looked markedly more colourful! Above all, the electricity in the atmosphere had not lost its charge. Notwithstanding, there was an air of intimacy. Kermit is right - you really could feel the love.

Russell ' was dressed more like a yachtsman than the surfers at his feet. Ron was resplendent in bowtie. The band were in anticipated uniform of black with the album sleeve emblazoned on their chests. Introducing Sparks had a matinee idol picture of Russell on the front and Ron on the rear, though some were vice versa. The Ron version was what the band were wearing.

"A Big Surprise" might have been a big surprise when heard live. It was so good. The band really launched into the chorus. We had come to expect that Russell would be more than perfect, would impress. Marcus Blake seemed invigorated now handling bass and singing backing. The high register backing vocal of Jim Wilson soared like surfboard over a high wave. Ron's keyboard sounded superb. From the second line, some of the audience accompanied Russell, the rest from the chorus. The album only came out as a CD from the year previous and it had been subject to some analysis and debate on this forum the year before. How could Introducing Sparks be rousing live?

"Occupation" had the audience woo whoooing along with Russell who was clearly beginning to savour the response.

"Ladies" had the crowd bouncing and singing along. Later, in the Eddie, some of our chaps changed the words to laddies to match their preference and that of the wider pub, which had be so kind to accommodate the rest of us.

"I'm not" had guitar chord crunching away deliciously.

"Forever Young" was sheer rock'n'roll. Really it was an anthem for those who attended the Spectacular, (not forgetting there were quite a few folk who, genuinely were young, sacrificing a lot to attend). Suddenly decades of disappointment and cynicism seemed to dispelled under the spell of Sparks. We were all teenagers for we had finally arrived at the elusive teenage cliche - we were where it all happens.

Giving a downbeat introduction to "Goofing Off" Russell expressed thanks for attending the more obscure albums. Yet surely the realisation must have been dawning that the fans had raised this album that of the cherished. I don't know if it was then, or earlier, or later, that night when he seemed to peer down with a curious squint at the tropical display beneath. Russell continued into the song, speaking the first verse, which duly made the build up more dramatic. On record the song has a gypsy fiddle part, now emulated by Jim's electric guitar virtuosity. We were stomping, arm punching, chanting Cossack style "Hey! Hey! Hey!"

"Girls on the Brain" was remembered for Russell sneaking up behind Ron for the line about the brother being pretty thick.

"Over the Summer" had Steven Nistor joining the others singing backing. Sound had been fulsome, thanks to the band giving it their all. It felt like summer. It felt like the finale.

But there was still "Those Mysteries". More than just a ballad, from the naive point of view of a kid, which Russell's forever young voice articulated authentically, it has that show-stopping impact. And the crowd sang along gloriously. The most beautiful guitar solo from Jim Wilson rang in the ears and watered the eyes, making this closing number almost lamented before it was over.

If the audience was less in numbers, our volume wouldn't have betrayed that.

From another era was the encore, explained Russell. We all welcomed back Steve McDonald to bass. Steve is a hero, not just of the Spectacular, but a solid pillar supporting the transformation of Sparks as the rock's most magnificent cathedral of sound. Alabamy Right, driven by Ron's jaunty piano chords, sounds like a ragtime number, gently transported to the pop era on the fluffy cloud of singing angels. And, we were in heaven.

[allydodd]

Living in the moment is how we enjoyed the Spectacular. Every fantastic show seemed the best experience we'd ever found ourselves in. You were hearing brilliant and rare music from Sparks. You were laughing at their comedy coming to life on the screens inside the Bodhi Gallery, or related over a drink by seasoned fans. Knowledge on the brilliance of Sparks was bubbling to the surface, not just coming exclusively from older fans, but also from younger fans, who were a whizz on research via the internet or other sources. Friendships were developing all the time. People sparked off each other. Notwithstanding Number One in Heaven did generate its own anticipation.

In the Eddie, there was a widespread appreciation of Number One in Heaven as a source of disco floor fillers par excellence on the scene. Fellows, whose partners held golden tickets, had christened themselves "Sparks Widows" . Unmissable Number One in Heaven was going to be special as these chaps were finally joining us.

Tickets were becoming as scare as hen's teeth as the show loomed; someone had put the warning out to our community. On the night, the hall was entirely sold out. Amongst the sea of sweating bodies crammed together like a shelf full of tins of sardines in Lidl, there was a clamour to get moving, to see, to dance.

Any tension was punctured at the breathtaking arrival of Sparks. It was the Ron of 1979 who stepped out on stage, handsome eyes staring mysteriously, beneath dark lustrous curls in familiar side score, his height accentuated by a tie-less shirt fastened to the neck. People choked with laughter, there were roars, there were (were)wolf whistles. Heat from the pit must have been penetrating back stage as Russell had already dispensed with a jacket, displaying funky red braces .

Yet the crowd fell silent in respect of the futuristic synth build up to "Tryouts for the Human Race". The usual spinning album sleeve on the projection screen was augmented by a mirrorball effect, fittingly. Once Stephen Nistor's drums thumped into operation, Russell sprang into action and the crowd were clapping, singing, whooping.

Number One in Heaven had presented a dilemma to rocker, Jim Wilson. No-one appreciates the integrity of music more than Jim, who was spotted exploring second hand record stores in whatever rare spare time was available; his treasure he would later share on his vinyl shelf internet radio downloads. Apparently, Jim imparted that he didn't ' want to be known as the one to play guitar on Number One in Heaven. Jim and Marcus Blake took the positions of backing vocalists to the right of Russell, from audience perspective. The left of the stage was taken up by Ron's hair.

Before I learnt the meaning of "Tryouts for the Human Race", its energy struck me as being testosterone etched on vinyl. And the vigour of its performance live confirmed that potent quality.

"Academy Award Performance kept the pace up. Stephen Nistor triumphed with the frenetic tempo. With its short curt cursed lines, opening up into longer statement, it is drama condensed on record.

A motionless Ron begun the long introduction to "La Dolce Vita". It is a like one coruscation of alien musical sounds after another of equally strange ones. It's up to your imagination as to what's going. Sparks approach their music from a visual perspective, almost like making a film. Perhaps that's why they have such a big sound. I went to see the Fellini film just because of this album.

Sparks paved the way for a generation of pop acts in the 80s, condensing into a duo of singer and keyboardist. They showed how it was possible to go on stage as a successful pop act without a band of instrumentalists. Recording could be more accessible to up and coming artists. Sparks provided a model for members of imploding bands to focus on the strongest relationships within, and reinvent themselves and continue to follow the dream. In fact, Sparks provided the whole stage dynamic. The music was played by a singular keyboardist, who in spite of this busyness, moved minimally. In contrast, the single vocalist had the whole stage to dance around. Indeed, Sparks created the image. The singer was free to express themselves through striking clothing, while the keyboardist merged into the background. No matter what angle you take, Sparks were the blueprint. Don't try counting the chart groups that followed the formula as it'll take you all day. And, don't forget in their shadow, how many relatively unknown partnerships found a way to earn a few quid on the club circuit performing as such as duo, carting about their Yamaha or Korg and amps in the back of a second hand estate car.

Over and above, the rapid rhythms in some of the faster tracks on Number One in Heaven surely represent a forerunner to the high energy machine music that emerged in the 90s.

"Beat the Clock" was the hit record that turned me on to Sparks. Its catchiness hooked me at a tender age. On Top of the Pops, Ron was mesmerising, like a statue of my hero Charlie Chaplin. Grooving Russell sang the lines that I chirped back like a budgie. At primary school, kids were chanting out, "Beat the Clock, you gotta beat the clock". No amount of shyness could restrict me from joining in. Now, here I was, supposed grown-up, reliving the magical memory of first acquainting with Sparks, with childish abandon.

Spotlight was on Ron for the long introduction to the lulling, "My Other Voice". Ron's hypnotic keyboard might have been transporting us to another paradise but we were happily grounded in heaven already. At the back of the stage, Russell shook a tambourine, assisting Stephen Nistor's one man orchestra of percussion. He sung the first part normally, but used computer distortion for the second. The record came out a full year before Mickey Dolenz's TV series, "Metal Mickey".

Dry Ice was flooding the stage when Ron played the celestial chords for "The Number One Song in Heaven". Russell was on his toes for the vocals, reaching choirboy heights. Although the songs are complex and lengthy, the album defied convention in being a mere six songs strong. As the sixth song, the virtual title track was the closing number, albeit containing two parts. The song meant, and still means, a lot for Sparks fans. How many people in the Eddie had confessed it was to be the song played at their funeral? Sadly, at least one important fan's intention has been fulfilled since . Recently I rediscovered evidence that the performance that night had deeply impressed upon him a feeling of pride to be a fan.

It was another friend who was close beside me that evening, and on many of the other spectacular nights. I recall him saying something along the lines of I predict that the encore will be "Dancing is Dangerous". He rattled off a story about hearing on radio the song by Noel and rushing out to buy it. Afterwards he realised it was written by Sparks. Russell's rendition was great. And fulfilling the prophesy, we were treated to that very song.

Later that night, jubilant fans thronged the Eddie. Number One in Heaven may have failed to live up to its name in terms of chart position, despite fathering successful singles and its far reaching influence. The music on it is more futuristic, uncompromisingly original than the work by others it inspired. Maybe this bold album was just too far ahead of its time. The phrase breaking new ground is like an understatement, unless you mean on the surface of another planet. The next chapter in the story of 21 albums did present Sparks with a number one. But, in Islington, we thought we were in Heaven and that Sparks would eternally be our number one band.

[admiralhalfnelson]

[allydodd]

"The Greatest Show on Earth" is the title of the final song on the album Terminal Jive. The expression could be used to describe the Sparks Spectacular.

Any notion that any of the first eight albums may have presented a problem for the fans had been completely contradicted by the hearty tip-top performance by the band, and the loving reception . Albums had taken on new meaning, new identity, a new value. Sparks history was being revealed as more complex, colourful and dazzling.

Terminal Jive was the next challenge to face. Fans were sensitive to the fact that Ron was known to have expressed reservations about the album. Number One in Heaven and Terminal Jive had Giorgio Moroder overseeing production, catalyst to the dissimilar types of success each merited. The first, a truly astounding album, was mainly the result of the inventive Maels being let loose to experiment in the studio inside Moroder's house. In stark contrast, the second saw the process largely taken over by Harold Faltermeyer who, supervising session musicians, focused more on high production; nowadays the album overall sound feels hardly dated. Fusing rock and disco, Terminal Jive was a radical departure from the synthesiser intensity of Number One in Heaven. Indeed, this was another change in direction for Sparks for fans to grapple.

Entering a largely empty hall, I was chilled seeing only a small crowd hugging the front of the stage. Most were familiar figures. Supporting was the rap and hiphop duo, Dan Le Sac v Scroobius Pip, for a second time. They had gone down a storm during the jam packed Propaganda night, a week ago. Fans wouldn't want to miss them.

A number one for six weeks in France, "When I'm With You" was the enormous chart success that any band would feel overwhelmed by. Demand had Sparks relocate there for a year at the start of the 80s.

On the Saturday, the sparky French crowd had travelled over for Introducing Sparks, which made the atmosphere all the more adorable. However, this was now Tuesday, the middle of the working week for most people. Although a few characters had given up their job for the Spectacular, and one even a house, most people were endeavouring to attend around work commitments.

The video for "When I'm With You" showed on Swap Shop, a BBC TV programme for kids fronted by Noel Edmonds. It featured on a kind of juke box jury, which (I'm positive) determined it to be a hit. Ron appeared as a ventriloquist, (no-one looked more handsome in tuxedo and bowtie), with Russell as the dummy. At the Bodhi, someone informed me that the sultry love interest was Billy Idol's girlfriend. Unbelievably, the single then never charted in Britain. One of the dimmer bulbs in the classroom, my immature mind assumed they'd become Soft Cell, who were pretty good, though no-one could ever be as great as Sparks. Later in the 80s, a determined teenager acquired their greatest hits but was disappointed not to find the ventriloquist's song.

In a homage to Gallic success, Ron appeared on stage looking fetching in a beret. Someone later said he was also smoking a dummy cigarette, which escaped my notice. By then, the audience had doubled to about 150, forming several rows around the front of the stage.

"When I'm With You" launched, heavy on the drums and bass. Marcus Blake emphasised the funkiness on the bass guitar. Ron's keyboards slowly came more to the fore, augmented with the addition of John Thomas to the lineup. There was a bit whooping from below for Russell. Admittedly, though, singing from the audience lacked the spontaneity and volume from the larger crowds characteristic of all the other shows. As pop concerts go, it was a good atmosphere. But, by Sparks show standards, it was a little bit muted. More like a private party it felt - but I prefer Sparks gigs to be inclusive.

"Just Because You Love me" had been the B side, and was a bit more stomping.

"Rock'n'Roll People in a Disco World" hinted where Sparks were at during time of release. They weren't just hopping between musical styles, they were painstakingly shaping the music of the day, the music that was to come. Hard to believe now, accusations of selling out had occurred. Yet Sparks have an unwavering musical integrity. The only thing that would be selling out was copies of "When I'm With You".

Next was the instrumental version of "When I'm With You". In previous nights, there were tiny lights aglow dotted across the audience. Tonight, I was seldom aware of fans filming.

Yes, the lyrics of "Young Girls" prompted some sort of apology echoing the Big Beat night. Quite what was said or who by, my memory is too unreliable to give an accurate account. I don't think the apology was wholly serious. Some story about it being included in a list of the top inappropriate songs. Regardless, I have always loved the song, especially with Russell hitting incredibly high notes, which he replicated live. Jim Wilson brought out the guitar part well too.

"Noisy Boys" unleashed the animal in Stephen Nistor. This bouncy number was being enjoyed. People were calling it their favourite.

"Stereo" had people now saying this was their favourite. In fact, folk were now accompanying Russell with "Ste .. ree ... ooh!"

"The Greatest Show on Earth" provided an up tempo closing number. Certainly, Sparks had delivered yet another good show to an appreciative audience.

In a rare sombre moment, Russell dedicated the show to the late, Fred Chichin, of Les Rita Mitsouko. In France, the bands had recorded singles together in the 80s.

Accordingly, one of their collaborations was the encore, "Singing in the Shower". Despite the sad context, many were proclaiming this to be the highlight of a great night, which continued into the Eddie.

[allydodd]

Unfortunately, I completely missed "Whomp That Sucker".

Also I only experienced the following over Justin TV:
Angst in My Pants;
In Outer Space;
Pulling Rabbits Out of a Hat; and
Music That You Can Dance To.

Thus, I feel ill-equipped to write about the middle of 21x21. Each day of the Spectacular ascended to the acme of awe and deserves to be celebrated!

[Turtle152]

The name of the redhead in the "When I'm With You" video is Perri Lister. She sang the chorus on Idol's "Eyes Without a Face" and was the bride in his "White Wedding" video. She was also a member of Hot Gossip.

[Spyke]

Thanks for posting your reviews, allydodd. Well, they're more like celebrations of great times than reviews. You've really brought back to life those gigs of ten years ago! Still doesn't feel as long as that...
_________________
"but we can hear what others can't hear..."

[allydodd]

Interior Design was an album I had not heard by 21x21. In Britain, the 80s were Sparks' "lost decade", a phrase coined by Ron himself. Unlike other Sparks albums, which featured its iconic stars visually somewhere, its entire sleeve was a picture of a couple in a 1960s house. I like the albums with R&R on them - they make me smile. Seldom discussed on this forum, any mention seemed to indicate it was a low point in Sparks career. With a hint of irony for this particular album, hearing one of the 21 played live first instead of its recording at home felt like an interesting contribution to the so grand experiment of the Spectacular.

Interior Design was an enigma even to the band. More familiar with Sparks back catalogue than even R&R, Jim Wilson often was the guy demonstrating how songs were played during rehearsals. Yet he had never own a copy of Interior Design - and this passionate musicologist had already amassed a legendary record collection of epic proportions. One of the anecdotes circulating during 21x21 involved Jim wandering into a certain American coffee chain outlet, (which will remain unnamed). With headphones on, he managed to politely order a cuppa. By default in bustling Islington N1, this was given to go in a paper cup. Just then, Interior Design appeared on his ipod, so he sat down to concentrate on listening in preparation for the forthcoming show. Next, a barista asked the black affronted Jim to leave admonishing that he should've specified he was drinking inside. Hilarity resulted in the fans' camp - you think of pop stars consuming illicit substances and trashing hotel rooms and the extent of bad behaviour for our likeable lead guitarist over a month of rock'n'roll was getting asked to leave a coffee shop for having it in the wrong mug!

With between 150 and 200, the crowd inside Islington Carling Academy was at least as big as Terminal Jive, the last show I had attended. Even before the ninth gig, I was feeling completely washed out. Since then, Sparks had played an amazing six further concerts of completely different set-lists in the hurried schedule of a week. You couldn't make that up. This was show fifteen. Surely signs of fatigue would be beginning to manifest in the line-up?

Yet, "So Important" kicked off with such energy. The single from the album this surely had to be. Marcus delivered an intense bass rhythm and the album had come alive, it had caught fire.

"Just Got Back From Heaven" had also been a single. Seizing me momentarily was a depressing thought that this line would come back to haunt me when the Spectacular was finally over. However, 21x21 was about living in the minute and savouring every beat, every heartbeat.

"Lots of Reasons" was next. Whilst I may had come across the first two tracks on video screened in the Bodhi exhibition, whose run had now ended, this certainly would have been the first encounter with this track. With such a super band, all the song were boldly coming across favourably.

The infectiousness of "You've Got a Hold of My Heart" warmed my heart. Sometimes synths can produce a wonderful sound, and this was a prime example. It made me wish to have a scarf to swing along as I swayed as the notes climbed and dropped in beautiful patterns that few like Ron could compose. Indeed, it struck me that how great a keyboards player Ron was. Of course, we all know the genius is so much more than that. But when you home in on his performance on the ivories, you realise he is a considerable musician. Throughout 21x21, there was so much multi-tasking for Ron.

"The Toughest Girl in Town" really rocked with Steven Nistor's powerful drumming. Loving it the fans were.

"Lets Make Love" was a pleasure to hear, showcasing Russell's infallible falsetto while Jim harmonized with the lower notes.

"A Walk Down Memory Lane" was another song I instantly fell for. Meandering between pleasing and more moody chords, it lifted the senses to somewhere. Complementing its atmosphere, the screen behind showed a rainy back street. When the song jumped to a higher key, the elasticity of Russell's range again coped marvellously.

For some of the songs encountered afresh, I am unable to recall their individual impression on me . Generally I reckoned these sounded in style a perfect fit for their 80s context, thus more mainstream than Sparks' approach. They were worthy enough to have me wondering why this album was not more commercially successful.

Given the quirkiness of the closing number, "Madonna", I should have a good memory of it to describe. Unfortunately, I can recall anything. What's sure was that the show had went down well with the crowd. A little later, I learned that there was a positive reaction from the audience watching alone at home online. Perhaps in consequence, Interior Design was re-released as a CD about a year later by Lil' Beethoven records. "Madonna" stood out for me upon first play, but it didn't recover the lost memory.

A feature of the Spectacular experiment was the awesome popularity of the encores. It was like they were more popular than the albums with the fans. Therefore, the conclusion of the fans was that R&R were unaware of just how brilliant their work is. Unusually, in respect of this album, two songs were played in encore. Russell had suggested the fans wouldn't know one of the songs. However, our gusty reception for both surely convinced him of being pleasantly wrong.

The instrumental "Big Brass Ring" proved popular as an encore. I had actually heard it somewhere before.

The rare "Kind of Like the Movies" was one of those rare treasures that had become an open secret among the fans community. It had featured in film called Bad Manners, which I had never seen.

Humbling was hearing this album for the first time. Live, it was simply brilliant. Long before the Spectacular, Russell had encouraged us to compare and contrast albums. Revisiting the Spectacular experiment, I realised inwardly I had been seeking an album to blame as a scapegoat for Sparks lack of presence in my life for dull years on end. The discovery from the journey of 21x21 was that there were things to like about all these diverse albums. From now on, I resolved to make sure Sparks were a daily source of enjoyment and hope.

[allydodd]

"Gratuitous Sax and Senseless Violins" was a night I had to express gratitude for. On first play of the LP in 1994, this showcase of sparkling new material felt like the album for my generation, (which includes the likes of Alex Krapanos). First impressions stick, so this celebration fourteen years later during 21x21 touched me deeply.

Of course it was utter nonsense to conjecture that Sparks had created an album just for me and my cronies. At their tour in Edinburgh's so grand Usher Hall, Sparks fanbase was diverse in age, gender and nearly every other aspect. What was beguiling was its freshness, its contemporary relevance. A marvel of contradiction: it was sad yet joyful , thought provoking yet whimsical ' , boisterous but soothing, mellow yet irresistibly danceable. Distinction. Its stage presentation in 1995 was slick, star quality. Entering as if having stepped of Bus 27, Ron was tweed hatted, in overcoat, clasping a brolly. To the tune of Disney's "Hi ho hi ho its off to work we go", Ron danced to a hatstand, disrobed from outerwear, then sat soberly down at keyboard to play "The Number One Song in Heaven" . Introducing the navy and white stripes, Russell appeared boogieing around a fountain. On electronic percussion was the graceful glamour of Christie Haydon. Weeks afterwards, I was still entertaining friends and colleagues with accounts.

Marking a resurgent Sparks the album was when it came out. In the media the term comeback is overused, especially when it comes to Sparks. "Hippopotamus" was hailed a comeback even though it's actually the industrious brother's fifth album within ten years. However, "Gratuitous Sax and Senseless Violins" really was a comeback after a long hiatus. A six year gap had followed "Interior Design" during which Sparks had focused on working on a soundtrack for "May, The Psychic Girl", a Hollywood film project based on a Japanese Manga comic strip heroine, which studio executives identified big names for yet never completed.

The Spectacular gig of "Gratuitous Sax and Senseless Violins" jubilantly reflected that sense of comeback. Although it had been a mere two days since the "Interior Design" show, that Friday had all the feeling of a welcome resurgence. CCTV operators must surely have noted the incidence of Sparks t-shirts with hand luggage ascending the notoriously steep escalator of Angel Tube Station to the promising daylight above. People were arriving from all corners of the UK, some travelling from Europe, some flying in from further afield. For many it was their second or third visit of the 21 nights. They brought renewed energy, which radiated into that electric atmosphere. By the night of "A Woofer in Tweeter's Clothing", we had a saying, "A week is a long time in politics but a day with Sparks is like a year anywhere else." Sparks were going to walk onto a stage in a packed house, wall to wall with eager grins.

Among unsung grafters was the sound crew. We kind of got to know some of these busy guys by name. One such fellow was Bob, who always seemed to have a mischievous glint in his eyes, and knew a thing or two about guitars. When winding up mike cable whilst the hall languidly emptied at night, he kindly handed down used set-lists to those desperate hands lingering after the show. Support act tonight was his band!

A hearty welcome was given by an already fulsome audience to the Bad Terrorists. Unhindered or unhinged by middle age, they thrashed out a punk rock of politically incorrect songs laced with anarchic humour. Belly laughs galore, Bob's trio precipitated the friendly atmosphere that was to endure all night. In tribute to the main act, they did a knock off version of "I Thought I Told You to Wait in the Car", which had the audience cheering.

The a cappella introduction, "Gratuitous Sax", had never been done during the 1995 tour, I understood. But here, Sparks were empowered with a superb line-up of talented musicians, whose dedication was of such enormity as to be beyond comprehension of most mortals. Russell sang the words, while Jim Wilson doo-wapped the rapid rhythm. The audience stumbled in vocally too, so Russell craftily held the last note to let us catch up. Emulating the sax on synth, Ron concluded the scale exercise, hamming up the wind-up to a grindingly slow halt. This fun filled start absolutely tapped the lighthearted mood of the crowd. By then, many of us all knew every inch of that wee hall. We knew exactly how to all get along swell while crammed in whenever it filled to capacity. Any of the tension of earlier sell-outs was overridden by a magic blanket of joy.

"When Do I Get to Sing "My Way"?" was the comeback hit in Britain entering its top forty. Even better, it reached top ten in Germany, whose fans were well represented during 21x21. Russell looked and sounded even more robust now than in 1995, I marvelled. As if reading my mind, he leaped vertically and spun in the air to prove a point. Ten further years on, there is a picture circulating of him doing something similarly acrobatic during the second Hippopotamus tour.

For the fast paced, "(When I Kiss You) I Hear Charlie Parker Playing", Ron remained stoic at keyboard. During the 1995 tour Russell took keyboards while Ron broke into a manic dance at the frenetic introduction. Unseen now were Ron's fingers, which must have been going ninety to the dozen for this up-tempo single. Sparks crafted a hot 90s electronic dance number yet it evokes a deceased jazz saxophonist active fifty years previous, as if to signpost where it all comes from. The song is loaded with a variety of other cultural references too. Quality again. Released as a single, it charted in Britain. These were all thoughts whizzing through my mind, but my body was too busy bouncing to care.

"Frankly Scarlett, I Don't Give A Damn" was some relief from the dance party of the previous two songs. The title was one of many references in the album to the film world, an industry that had then consumed the last six years of the Maels' creativity. Russell spoke the words of the verses while Jim backed with doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doos. Marcus fingered the bass guitar to subtly enhance the music but not overpower the song.

A driving synth bass sound, (that was incorporated into Exotic Creatures of the Deep), was used to usher in the frenzied, "I Thought I Told You to Wait in the Car". I was waiting to shout out the classic line, I never thought of Warren Beatty as a rival, but chickened out. Russell was doing a bit of acting, now in a mean and moody demeanour for the commands in the lyrics. Meantime, Jim was excelling with near operatic backing vocals.

"Hear No Evil, See No Evil, Speak No Evil" eased the pace. One of my friends had pointed out, in the Eddie some evenings previous, how prophetic the song was. And, a decade on it is all the more significant.

"Now That I Own the BBC" was the version Sparks played for Blighty. It would be wrong to omit that detail, after perusing so much material in the exhibition in the Bodhi Gallery. Notwithstanding, this audience was international in composition. Generally the title was changed to be specific to the broadcasting company name appropriate for the country the record was being marketed to. Driven by Ron's piano chords, this was perfect for the 90s dance music craze. The crowd were happy to dance, but there was only room to move your limbs up and in the squeeze.

For "Tsui Hark", Ron gave a rare mid concert address to the audience. He told the story of the collaboration with the director of the title. They had him and fellow director Bill Kong over to their studio to record their voices. Unfortunately, Tsui Hark was filming in Hong Kong so couldn't travel to London. The band therefore had to elect someone with the nearest voice, which was Ron. We all chortled. Russell and Jim manned the keyboards as Ron spoke the lines. Rapturous applause complimented the end, followed by chants of "Ron, Ron, Ron". Finally, a joker shouted out, "Go solo, Ron!"

I predicted that "The Ghost of Liberace" was going to feel emotional. Even before the Spectacular month of countless conversations between fans from near and far, it had seeped out largely through this forum just how much this song was loved by the fans. It's a song of sadness but with an uplifting ending. As stage lights touched the faces in the audience, I was aware that many cheeks were visibly moist. It could have been sweat, tears , cooling water.

The penultimate number was the invigorating, "Lets Go Surfing", which conversely has a sad ending. My favourite of the album, I had long thought it would've made a fitting finale. However, Sparks had crafted a pair of intros and outros of arresting quirkiness to bookend this great work. The Bodhi had evidence of this manifesting as a single in some foreign land. Already the fans had relabelled "Introducing Sparks" as the surf album, and Russell was wearing the same dapper yachtsman outfit. Russell's rendition was breathtaking, again backed by Jim on high vocals, with the crowd singing along. This was soundwaves at their most exquisite.

Shrieking "Senseless Violins" shook the show a close. Quoted in the press in the 90s, Ron expressed a liking for extreme music, alluding to the string in the scary shower scene of Hitchcock's Psycho . Sparks had sampled it for their Finitribe collaboration, "National Crime Awareness Week", but had excluded this single from the album. I liked the fact that with this final song, R&R had managed to creep in a little aftertaste of that spirit.

Representing an earlier era, "Marry Me" was a surprise encore. Everyone had assumed it would be "What Would Katherine Hepburn Say?", which had been written to launch a solo career for Chrissi Haydon. Considering the six hit 45s in the UK in quick succession in the mid 70s, it was the only song that might have passed for a flip side, as every other B-side sounded worthy of release in its own right. A huge cheer ushered it into play and the band marched on, with Jim relishing a more substantial guitar part. Ron's keyboard had switched into an older organ mode, maybe more Hammond style. One fan had made a t-shirt for 21x21 with the slogan, "Ron marry me". I hoped she was wearing it that night. No matter how you were dressed for that gig, you were wearing a smile.

It's more a miss than a hit when you try to revisit a great thing in your past, though many bands try to churn out an approximation. What is startling, is how Sparks were not content just to replicate it, but actually presented it afresh as a more extensive, exciting, altogether far better experience. Nothing could be more thrilling or rewarding than being a Sparks fan.

[allydodd]

Replicating great things from the past and presenting them afresh in exciting ways was the theme behind the album next on the 21 nights. "Plagiarism" is like a greatest hits album, only re-recorded and reinterpreted with a wildly imaginative approach. Ten years ago today, Sparks performed "Plagiarism" with a little help from some others. It was the album which had caused most anxiety amongst fans. Actually a double album it was far longer than the rest containing a whopping nineteen songs to perform. It was extremely complex, ranging from quasi-orchestral reinterpretations, collaborating with electronic pop acts and heavy rock bands, and a punk knock off. Obviously the hardest album to preform so far had been "Indiscreet" but this was dwarfed in terms of challenges to this, the second Sparks album produced by the inventive, Tony Visconti. How on earth were Sparks going to pull of something of such magnitude? They hadn't even 24 hours to prepare!

Again the hall was packed. It seemed even more crowded than the previous night, "Gratuitous Sax and Senseless Violins". And, the atmosphere was still as electric and joyful.

Fans were pleased to see on stage the first class musicians from Trinity College returning. Behind a string quintet was a brass section. In a red suit, Russell distinguished himself.

The first number, "Pulling Rabbits Out of a Hat", the bold reworking of the title track of an 80s album with strings launched the next and rather thick chapter of the Spectacular. Just about everyone I knew preferred the string version to the original. But hearing it live, performed with excellent players of stringed instruments, eclipsed everything. The audience were delighted. Applause, applause, applause.

In fact, one or two of the 21x21 regulars admitted to having aching muscles from the amount of clapping that month. Certainly, after shows, many hoarse voices battled to be heard inside the besieged Eddie, often above a Sparks playlist.

Similarly fantastic were the strings on one of the greatest heavy rock songs of the 70s, "This Town Aint Big Enough for the Both of Us". Why this song excites more than all these conventional rock anthems is down to its tension. Its delicate beginning exploding into a thundering electric storm beats blanket loudness anytime. Key too is the unique instrument that is the voice of Russell Male, urgent, operatic, dynamic. The song is the uneasy balance of contradictions. Attempting to make it more exciting is like trying to rally a juggernaut carrying crystal glass. However, the quality of Ron's writing is such that the integrity of the song, (which conversely is its foreboding fragility), is simply enhanced by the parts of these additional instruments in Plagiarism. Replacing the legendary piano would've been unthinkable but, considering its baroque cradle, supplanting with harpsichord works fitfully. All that came together perfectly on the night, and you could feel the thrills reverberating through the audience. Grateful I felt to these Trinity College musicians for assisting. Judging by the noise that accompanied the crescendo, so did everyone else.

"Funny Face" was the track I had least liked on this album. To me, Russell's voice sounded a little pathetic compared to the gusto performances that so invigorate, (though that may be deliberate to fit the lyrics). However, once Jim Wilson started strumming his acoustic guitar, an undiscovered gentleness within the song began to emerge, almost reminiscent of a lullaby. In Ron's classy piano work the quality of composing impressed. Regardless of any reservation I might have earlier had, the audience was loving this song.

The strings were welcome enhancement to "When Do I Get to Sing "My Way"", already a sophisticated pop song.

Invading the tea party was the punk version of "Angst in My Pants" Infusing an attitude that might have sparked a sensation of deja vu for Steve Jones, Jim rumbled away on the electric guitar. Shoulders and hips rocked irresistibly in time, though having established behavioural norms to survive so many squeezes in Islington, a spontaneous pogo by audience members would've been just a bit too impolite. Whilst we had enjoyed so many unbelievable great nights, this show was transporting us into another dimension. Surreal it felt.

The ragtime version of "Change" had been crying to to be performed with brass instruments. When the strings blended beautifully in it was as if your own heartstrings were being gently plucked. Both amazing and emotional to hear this was. "Change" is a song tinged with sentiment and sadness. Often it's played as the final encore of an evening, inadvertently ushering in the inescapable post Sparks blues that shadow so many of the fandom. With its lyrics jumping over time, it felt relevant to what Sparks had been facing with the 21 albums experiment. Rumour had been circulating Islington that "Change" was Ron's favourite Sparks song. Dry ice must have been making our eyes water.

The frenetic, "Something for the Girl with Everything" was great with the stringed instruments conspiring to bring out its quintessential quirkiness.

"Amateur Hour" was more stripped back, reflecting the collaboration with the synth duo, Erasure. Hugely popular in the UK, overwhelming demand had spurred Erasure to sell-out seven successive nights in Edinburgh's Playhouse, which was once the largest theatre in Britain. Indeed, we regularly impressed ourselves discussing the impact of Sparks' legacy over that special month. However, conversation consistently reached the same conclusion - enjoying Sparks music was better than anything.

Adding to the sense of surreal were second performances of "This Town Aint Big Enough for the Both of Us" and "Something for the Girl with Everything", representing the versions on the second which were recorded with rockers, Faith No More. Released in the UK, the former collaboration hit its top 40.

A third previous album title song, "Propaganda" featured on Plagiarism in an extended reinterpretation. For the show, Jim and Marcus had their work cut out on backing vocals. The response from the audience was astounding. Russell seemed satisfied that they had nailed it.

A twitch of the curtain I spotted at the start of "The Number One Song in Heaven". Flanking me, my friends were focussed on the amusing spectacle of Russell conducting the string quintet, (probably with one of Steven's spare drum sticks). I realised the highlight of a show of highlights was imminent. Slipping through the curtain came guest of honour, Jimmy Somerville to duet with Russell, bounding onto stage with the genuine gleefulness of a pup joining his master. This collaboration had sparked a single in the 90s, complete with a video in gothic monochrome set in fairground that must have left cinephile brothers Mael proud. Amidst the thrills of two great falsetto voices together, there was something very respectful about Jimmy's showmanship. Bouncing forward to offer his own lines to the audience, Jimmy retracted behind Russell for him to deliver his lines. Singing the words, "written by the mightiest hand", his own hand directed us towards R&R.

Jimmy slinked behind the rows of seated musicians, deferring his deserved applause for Russell, as the song morphed into Never Turn Your Back on Mother Earth. With this fulsome band, it truly sounded out of this world! What a finisher!

We were were on such a high it was difficult to come back down to earth. Applause and roars echoed endlessly. The Trinity College musicians appeared to have enjoyed the night and were wide-eyed at the incessant appreciation as they left their music stands, carrying precious instruments off stage.

It was the familiar line-up of Sparks who returned to the stage. A big surprise to me was the encore, "Looks Aren't Everything", from another era. It shouldn't have been because Plagiarism is all about fishing the past. Over and above, various fans had raised and praised this obscure track in the Eddie. Now, on the forum was a means for fans to vote for their favourite song to be performed as part of the ultimate encore for the Exotic Creatures of the Deep concert. Already mooted and gathering support, this song was to eventually top the entire poll. Given the enormous quantity of quality of other gems, I was a bit baffled. Anyway, the guys looked pleased to be finishing with a straightforward rock song. With the rapturous applause insatiable afterwards, I made my way to the exit.

Joint first of the fans in the Eddie I was with Jimmy Somerville and his bike. Aglow from the experience, he was excitedly going over the performance in fragmented detail with an awestruck and unwarranted self-depreciating perspective. With the Communards, Jimmy had memorably topped the charts for six weeks, and made albums which kept my high school buddy and I from playing football in the summer holiday drizzle. Soon the pub filled with Sparks fans, and Jimmy was generously posing with big smiles with whoever asked.

In spite of its complexity of arrangement, Plagiarism had been fantastic, virtually flawless. Enliven yet exhausted at the same time we were afterwards.

On vocals Russell had been consistently brilliant. Fans were realising that he was the greatest pop singer ever. And, it was a conclusion you were knew from the bottom of everyone's heart we were delighted to have so much reason to make. This marathon challenge was the ultimate proof of our passionate pitch.

Many fans were declaring it was the most amazing concert of their lives. It had been a highlight of highlights. Up until then, it had been actually very common for people to call one the 21 gigs their best experience. Then a night or two later, another fantastic concert would cause them to proclaim that particular one had just topped it. The Spectacular was like that. It just got better and better. Sparks do that to you. They give you something above your most ambitious musical expectations, then next they trump it. Plenty were trumpeting Sparks' glory in the Eddie, that night.

[Billy Stevens]

You might want to edit the Number one song in Heaven bit.
_________________
Don't let it get me!

[allydodd]

[allydodd]

"Balls" was an album that exceeded all my expectations when I spotted it hanging high up on the walls of the tiny triangular interior of Avalanche Records in Edinburgh's Old Town. Packed full of great pop, you could pop "Balls' on and just about dance your way through it. Containing more hooks than a pirate themed fancy dress party, it became the default CD to play to captured friends to infect them with Sparks fever. Reviews I had read earlier on the web were coldly dismissive of this hot album, and even some fans were . Once in Islington, I found more people mirrored my view that it was excellent.

Amidst the echoes from two stunning concerts earlier that weekend, it was hard to countenance yet another show, another album. Worn out, that hot Sunday felt as quiet as Islington N1 is allowed to get, but there was still a busy vibe. For the exhausted Sparks community, it was turning into an evening to remember. One of our clan, a character of considerable popularity, was set to celebrate a birthday. In our upstairs room of the Eddie, a sumptuous buffet had been kindly laid on by the landlady. Centrepiece was a decorated birthday cake depicting the fellow in an "Exotic Creatures of the Deep" themed scene. So grand! After much good fun, we headed downstairs and marched cheerily across the lane to Islington Carling Academy.

Inside, my heart sank, for the place felt cold and empty. The usual patient faces clung to the front of the stage, but behind, were barely a few lines of figures. Eventually a crowd assembled of the size of some of the 80s albums. And, we had managed to have a ball on these nights.

Once the band were welcomed onto stage, the mood shifted up a gear. The presence of longtime collaborator, Tammy Glover behind the drum kit, had not been a big surprise for fans, given the significance of the Spectacular, but it was a heartwarming sight. Steve Nistor had held 21x21 together and clearly deserved a night off, (although the dedicated professional was busily about, evidently technically involved in the show).

From the very first show onward, the bass sound from the stage had been extremely powerful. As "Balls" kicked off, it had struck me that this was the album that would benefit most from that sound. Clapping along keenly, we realised that we at least had room to dance with a little less restraint.

"More Than a Sex Machine" released as a single was worthy of being a club anthem. Russell's voice was great, especially resonant carrying the deeper notes.

The serene, "Schehazade" calmed the pace down, and benefited from Tammy being there with mike for the verse spoken by the titular female storyteller of legend.

"Aeroflot" had a near miss incident. Out of the blue, Russell's mike cut off. That spilt second slip just allowed us at the front a fleeting opportunity to hear that magnificent voice without amplification. The band never lost track. Unbelievable it is how smoothly all the shows went, so hats off to the band and crew!

"The Calm Before the Storm" was electric from the start. As a single, I would've rushed like a bullet train to buy had I known about it, regardless of it being Sparks.

The Maels have such an admiration of so many things Japanese, we had observed during conversations about influences in the coffee shop in Brick Lane after our many visits to the Bodhi exhibition. "Bullet Train" propelled Russell full of energy rattling through the repetitive words, hurtling about the stage.

"It's a Knock Off" was the title track for the film by Tsui Hark, starring Jean-Claude Van Damme. Immediately, the song charmed me with its silly humour. Never had I expected a track so laid-back to get a live airing by these dynamic Sparks. How lucky did I feel that night?

"It's Irreplaceable" revealed the best way to enjoyed melancholic lyrics - when the music is spurring to you dance deliriously.

"The Angels" was one of the standout performances of 21x21. Enhanced with the addition of Jim's guitar picking, the song felt all the more a timeless classic. Russell held high notes so marvellously long, I felt I was holding my own breath. It felt like time was standing still while my ears fluttered off to paradise. What a way to close the set!

Fervent anticipation had been rife in Eddie in the run up to "Gratuitous Sax and Senseless Violins", for a certain song to be played as a encore. Fans had been desperate for "What Would Katherine Hepburn Say?" Written by Ron for bandmate, Chrissi Haydon, it had featured on British TV, while the prospect of a solo career was being considered by major record companies executives. Here, Russell was great singing it. Jim's amazing acoustic guitar solo, seemingly drawing on ethnic influences, took the song to another level.

In the aftermath, people were reasoning that Sparks sounded even better live than on record. The reaction of the audience to the show had me wholly vindicated. Underrated became word of the day. The Spectacular experiment was proving more powerful than Sparks perhaps had predicted.

[Billy Stevens]

No problem Ally, inside the Utrecht venue as I type. Very small.
_________________
Don't let it get me!

[allydodd]

Lil' Beethoven was an experiment in itself. A boldly experimental album, it produced remarkable results. It didn't just break new ground for Sparks, it blazed into territory hitherto undiscovered by the pop industry. Orchestra sounds and distortion supplant rock norms of Stratocasters or pop's tried and tested synth voices. Repetitive, the lyrics shine the comedy spotlight on one-liners that are so telling of noughties society. In all, it made critics suddenly sit up and treat Sparks serious thenceforth.

Lil' Beethoven was an important discovery for me. It heralded an everlasting bond between me and the band, made possible by the spread of the world wide web. No news about Sparks had touched me for years, when I stumbled across this unheard white album in the CD rack of the massive HMV store which used to be pride of Edinburgh's Princes Street. That was just less than five years before the Spectacular. A transparent sticker quoting five star reviews had my eyes widening as a sense of hope grew inside me. Normally, I would loiter for hours in a state of delicious indecision endlessly prioritising potential purchases from any number of artists that fell into the criteria of having names between A and Z. Grasping the CD in my hand, it was now irreplaceable.

To be honest, at the time of the Spectacular, I still didn't remotely understand "Lil' Beethoven" despite liking this an excuse to play the album at every given opportunity ' . It was only last year when I really grasped it. Since then, it has motivated me to explore the (perhaps unfittingly described) minimalist music regarded the most significant development in classical music of the last half century. Although there are parallels, even the odd acknowledged influence, it only fuels my appreciation of the unique nature of Lil' Beethoven and the genius of the Maels.

Word had got out that this was a very special album and therefore was going to be a very special gig for Ron and Russell. To mark this, they had invited a very special support act. Over the weekend in the Eddie, I was introduced to some visitors from Japan, including the artist, Yuichi Kishino. In 2006, Yuichi had authored the Sparks Guide Book for their concerts in Japan. As his alter-ego, the Moustached Widow , he trod the boards as a comedy act. In recognition of the significance of Lil' Beethoven, he had been asked to open the show. If anyone deserved a good reception it was this artist.

Pre-show, the Eddie was busy even by the standards of the most popular gigs. Already fans were enjoying themselves, some of who were sporting fake cowboy hats. In an uncharacteristic spurt of assertiveness, I found myself marshalling an assortment of the dallying over the lane to the venue.

Heat hit entering the hall. The interior could not be more different than the Sunday two days previous. Full of people it was, happy faces, with the hum of chatter and laughter everywhere. It was a party atmosphere. And, even at that early stage of the evening, the audience was far larger than the so-called private party night of the the couple of less popular 80s album nights. Someone had heard that there were known to be 550 inside. The cooling air condition, that folk were complaining about during the draughty Balls night, had evidently been turned down by the beleaguered management. Impossible it was for them to predict the size of crowd each night, I wryly surmised.

Added to the large projection screen, above the stage, were two more. Impressing me initially with a quiet dignity, Mr Kishino had come startlingly to life as the vibrant Moustached Widow. She beetled about the stage, interacting humorously with the screens filled with film and animation. Not only was there apparent two way respect between the Sparks and the devoted Mr Kishino, there was evidently a cross fertilisation of theatrical ideas. No wonder Sparks had wished to bestow the honour of this support slot.

Once the Moustached Widow left the stage, the familiar metronomes appeared on the projections, stoking up the fervid anticipation among the audience.

On stage came the band. To the left had side was the drum kit which Tammy Glover sat behind. At the other side was Jim Wilson on electric guitar beside Marcus Blake on bass. Centre was stairway to the screens that a hyperactive Russell would spring up spontaneously, and Ron would ascend for set pieces.

Lil' Beethoven starts with Russell as "The Rhythm Thief". In the touring shows, Russell's costume suggested burglar. Eyecatching in silver waistcoat, he was ringmaster beguiling audience to abandon preconceptions from the old pop world as we entered the revolving circus that is Lil' Beethoven. Ron would emerge as clown.

After the extended pianist arms featuring in the Bodhi Gallery, fans were adamant they got another airing for "How Do I Get to Carnegie Hall?" This was performance art. We all knew the joke from a few years ago. What was special about being an audience member for the 21 nights was how we were in on it. We had become part of that dynamic, part of Sparks. "Practise man, practise!" we all roared out.

For "What Are All These Bands So Angry About?", Steven Nistor joined Tammy as two kettle drums were positioned symmetrically at either side of the stage. The sight of these two favourites together pleased fans immensely. And, the oomph made the song in your face, like it's meant to be. During this song, I may have ruminated momentarily on the injustices done to Sparks and how they had prevailed. Or, maybe I was having too much fun.

"I Married Myself" actually became quite emotional. Comparing Ron to Charlie Chaplin is rather hackneyed, especially on this forum. On the other hand, it equally carries a depth of compliment in how Ron can spark emotion in a similar way to that master of silent comedy. Visibly moved to tears many in the audience were, as Ron was sadly eluded by the brides on the screen. Finally a massive aaaww accompanied his giving up and returning to keyboard.

For "Ride Em Cowboy", the hats glimpsed in the Eddie were bobbing up and down to Ron's antics. To relate it to John Cleese's theory of great comedy: a child imitating a cowboy riding a horse can be fairly funny, but when it's done by an orchestra conductor it's sidesplitting.

"My Baby is Taking Me Home" is the highpoint of repetition. For many in the audience it was also a highpoint. Unaware I had been of the popularity of this particular track. Even amongst that buzz, I hadn't predicted how the crowd were going to get crazy. With Russell repeating the word endlessly, many joined in this feverishly. Not even releasing himself for the verse, Russell let Ron speak the lines about seeing a rainbow, while carrying on chanting the titular line in the background. Eventually Russell's words became more frenzied, building up to a crescendo, he ripped open his waistcoat. Girls screamed. Meantime, Jim was savouring the thrash of the guitar. Whoops and roars aplenty.

"Your Call is Very Important to Us. Please Hold" saw Tammy go to the front of the stage to speak the cliched words of the icy switchboard operator. Fans all wanted to see the heroine behind their favourite band's ascent to acclaim. Instead of miming the actions of the frustrated enquirer, Ron remained sedentary playing keyboard, to avoid drawing limelight.

Ron once said that Lil' Beethoven dispensed with melody. Notwithstanding, "Ugly Guys With Beautiful Girls" begins with a soothing melody putting you in mind of an idyll of suburban prosperity. However expected, its sudden shatter was electric. When Jim Wilson's electric guitar clanged into action, it was all power and attitude, triggering head-banging as we w-upped along with Russell. On his arm, Ron smugly took a beautiful girl from stage left. After the apologising over the whimsical "White Women" on the Big Beat night, Ron's lovely lady was black or mixed race, thus putting to bed any remnant of notion that his lust was confined to one ethnicity. . The mere raising of an eyebrow had the audience in stitches.

To cheers, the much loved, Steve McDonald came on stage to join Tammy at Jim and Marcus' mikes. It was the gang show finale, "Suburban Homeboy". The tune was played by Ron on keyboard, with a little bass from Marcus. Everyone was singing.

So rousing was the reception by the audience at the end that Ron and Russell looked overwhelmed. It was an album that meant a lot to the Maels. It obviously touched them deeply that it had proved an album that had meant a lot to the fans. Cheering went on and on. And on and on. Deafening it was too.

It was hard to imagine where Sparks could go from here for the encore. Thankfully, a story from Russell was the perhaps the only way to hush the audience before they hurt their throats or hands or something. A deluxe version of Lil' Beethoven had been released some time after the album, containing extra tracks and goodies, which fans duly lapped up. On it was "Wunderbar"; its mere utterance ignited cheers. A friend in front spun round to catch my eye, shaking fist jubilantly as if his football team had just scored. Russell revealed how they had been asked to contribute to an album celebrating the famous German football commentator, Gunter Koch. This stunning track, which sampled his voice, was the output. The experience of doing such a radical piece of music spurred Sparks towards the groundbreaking approach to Lil' Beethoven. In fact, my memory is that every time Russell said the word "Wunderbar", audience cheers drowned him out. Ron played the driving strings sound on keyboard, while Russell went into German to impersonate Gunter. To my untrained ear, he sounded uncannily authentic. The audience loved it. Once more, the cheers were strong and lingering.

As the hall emptied, there was lots of excited talk. Many people were proclaiming this was the best gig they'd ever been to. Some of these people, were those I had just heard declare Plagiarism was their best gig ever. That was the Spectacular. A hearty proportion of the audience decanted to the Eddie, continuing the discussion. For the few seconds in the refreshing dusk air, what dawned on me was the heartening realisation that the Spectacular experiment may just have been delivering the kind of result Sparks wanted to hear. For every fan in Islington, that mattered.

[allydodd]

Hello Young Lovers had been my favourite album from the moment I put the new release on my CD player in 2006. News from the internet probably prompted me to go out and buy it. Well, to say I bought it betrays the treasured experience. Rather, it felt like a gift from a parallel universe, shaped by my subconscious. Certainly, I had no prior insight on its musical content. The most delightful discovery imaginable it was. Overwhelmed with how amazing it sounded I was. Every track was fresh, fantastic. A masterpiece it was, and the paint was still wet. Surely it would take Sparks cool places. Deep down had been a burning desire to encounter a new album, which turned out superior to all others. Deep down there had been a wish for it to be a record by Sparks. Truly I had wanted Sparks to be the best band ever. It was only upon hearing Hello Young Lovers that I fully become aware of this longstanding wish as it was fulfilled. So, I had always wanted Sparks to be my favourite band. It was just that I had been longing for a reason, something of unassailable magnificence to justify this passion to others.

Lots of reasons there are nowadays to substantiate why Sparks are the greatest band in the world, and the Spectacular unveiled many. Then, Hello Young Lovers was the most recent album, familiar even to the youngest fans. It also was which sparked my obsessive behaviour. When they had live dates in the UK, I took the train up and down the country to see the tour de force shows. A summer holiday had been spent in the seaside town of Fareham simply because Sparks were booked headliner of the Wickham Festival.

In Islington, many fans shared my view that Hello Young Lovers was Sparks' magnum opus. Notwithstanding, over the course of that marvellous month, I met lots of fans who all had different favourites. One of the impacts of the Spectacular experiment was that many fans were now reconsidering their preferences. Minds were changed. Without deviating into detail, the general gist was that all the albums were valued more. Therefore, it had meant a lot to me that Hello Young Lovers should be met with a good reception when performed.

On entering the Carling Academy, the crowd was slightly less than the previous evening for Lil' Beethoven, so a pang of dismay washed over me. However, it was more than half full and still early in the evening. That had been enough for a good atmosphere, I reasoned.

As a support act, the Brightonian outfit Electric Soft Parade might have stole the show for any lesser band. Amongst highlights was the unexpected rendition of the John Barry composed, classic Bond theme, Moonraker, (originally sung by Britain's most successful diva, Shirley Bassey).

Now occupying the stage for Sparks performance was a single large screen. Tammy Glover was back on the drum kit, which was almost tucked behind this screen, flanked by a barely visible Steve McDonald. Far opposite were Jim Wilson and Marcus Blake on guitars.

Spotlight fell on Ron whose voice recording piped the opening monologue to the performance version of "Dick Around". Interjections of Russell singing the opening line drove the tension, before launching into the titanic song. Often regarded Sparks best song, the piece is like an album in itself, (probably a double album too). Someone educated informed me there were around fifty changes of pace, changes of chord and other baffling musical terms which soared above my understanding. But tonight, the band was a slick machine. Sparks were untouchable.

"Dick Around" had been a promising highpoint for Sparks which descended overnight to a frustrating low point. A cut down version was released as a single in the UK, but instead of playing this outstanding number, the BBC banned it (bizarrely suspecting the title was an innuendo). Although critical acclaim embraced the album, sales never rose near what it merited. Looking around me, there was no question of its huge popularity with the fandom. The applause that followed was ear shattering.

"Perfume" sounded superb. Released as a single, it had been on TV in the UK. Animated bottles flashed up on screen as the guitars rumbled away, while people clapped to the beat. Russell was on good voice matching girls' names to the brand names word-perfectly. Ron's piano work was so catchy, it was drawing whoops from the audience.

Minimal Beethoven-esque piano chords, deliriously pleasing to the ears, signalled, "The Very Next Fight". Centre stage, Ron boxed with his animated self on screen. One of the points I was forever making in places like the Bodhi was that the genius of Ron was not just confined to music, it extended into areas like comedy too.

Being the last night in Islington, Russell seemed keen to register thanks and was more talkative than other evenings. He introduced, "(Baby Baby) Can I Invade Your Country". Band member replaced their instruments with acoustic guitars. Someone commented afterward that Russell changed the words slightly, but I hadn't noticed.

"Rock Rock Rock" had Ron incongruously miming electric guitar feedback, (which doesn't feature on the cleaner album version).

If any song celebrated Sparks' wonderful lyricism, it was "Metaphor". It was going down a storm. Russell was getting the audience to automatically sing back bits.

"Waterproof" had been a double A side with Dick Around on various releases. It sounded great opening with the electric guitars playing along with Ron's delicate woodwind sounds. As the volume ramped up, the crowd went wild.

"Here Kitty" was the token camp number, and some in the audience had put on kitten masks.

"There's No Such Thing As Aliens" was standout with Russell's voice carrying well. On screen was a moving animation of the brothers with alien hands, while Russell waved his own hand getting us all swaying along with our arms in the air.

However, it was "As I Sit to Play the Organ at the Notre Dame Cathedral" that was really out of this world. With an opener like "Dick Around", you wouldn't expect anyone to be able to have a finisher on a crescendo like this. And, as we had just heard, the middle of the album was powerful too. Indeed, the pace of the album is never far from exciting, and these so grand songs balance each other with awe and perfection. That, night, Russell vocals were unbelievable. Perhaps personal paranoia, but when Russell seemed to pointedly sing, " finish up your beer", I went red with embarrassment after overindulgences in the Eddie. As the piped organ sounded increasing out of control, Russell really poured his soul into all the alleluias.

Thunderous applause, cheers, whoops and whistles went on forever afterwards. Once again, I was wondering how Sparks could attempt to follow that. And, with it being the last Islington night, the mood was such that it had to be something very special.

All the musicians returned, including Steven Nistor with tambourine on backing vocals. "Profile" was one of many B-sides in the mid 70s, worthy of being an A-side. The audience obviously loved the song as much as me. Finally it struck me that all these outstanding B-sides were symbolic of Sparks. They are A list quality but you have to have an inquisitive eye or ear to go to find them, and when you do, you are elated. "Profile" was always on these lists of impossible Sparks songs to sing, compiled verbally on the spot in places like the Eddie. But, after twenty terrific shows, we knew Russell would be flawless. In fact, he was pure brilliant. With the four guys on the mike, the backing vocals were rousing propelling the performance into standout status. Emotional we felt seeing all of the super seven of the beloved band on stage together at the end, playing this final song in Islington. It was the best ending we would've wished for.

It was to be the final night in the Eddie. Having enjoyed the gig, Ian Hampton was coerced into coming over. The pub was packed. Hugs were going about everywhere. One of unexpected joys of 21x21 was how some of the band began to sometimes venture across to the Eddie for a beer with us. Lovely guys they were. These occasional visits started a good week into the Spectacular. By then, we were bumping into each other in the neighbourhood. Foremost in our fans community was respecting and protecting R&R, and the fans also looked out for one another. There had been an expectation that Jim and Marcus would appear for this final Islington night, along with Steven Nistor and Steve McDonald. There was also a rumour that the revered Tammy might be persuaded to come in. In fact, we were privileged to have all these wonderful musicians and some of the crew join us for a wee while. And a big surprise, they brought Spark Josh Klinghoffer who had flown in. All were happy to pose with us fans. Here we were with the heroes of the Spectacular! It was too good to be true. What a night!

For an amazing month in Islington, we had enjoyed a spectacular time, immersed in the glorious music Sparks had created in the past. Islington had been the perfect host, thanks to the efforts of a certain local fan. For Sparks fans, the whole world had condensed into its own community in small area of Islington, London. It was now time to move and face the future future!

[allydodd]

Exotic Creatures of the Deep was the impetus for the Spectacular. Playing the 20 previous albums was the ultimate, unprecedented build up to the great new album. Mind-blowing, it was also the ultimate unique publicity tool, and there's no doubt Republic Media were hard at it managing the promotion and doing all the hands-on organising. The Spectacular was featured on occasions by the Britain media, but no-one chose to commit resources to properly covering it. Crucially at its climax, cameras appeared though none of the fans knew exactly what they were capturing or for what purpose.

In many the Spectacular was at risk from its own phenomenal success, which grew and grew and grew. Firmly grounded in Islington N1, the resultant community of fans had on its doorstep everything it needed. Once there, you didn't have to think about anything, things just happened. Exhaustion was tasted as far back as after the first long night, and twenty albums in, it was all consuming. Floating from residence to Eddie across the lane to venue and back again was about as much as folk like me could manage. A blessing was being with good friends, some I had just met, who carried me through. A lasting debt of kindness I owe to certain fans. In Islington, if I did have to think, chances were I was not thinking straight. The upheaval from the comfort of Islington to Shepherd's Bush had mitigated the spur of energy from the eager anticipation of the live showcasing of the new album. The relocation was not something I handled well.

Sharing the neighbourhood with the band actually heightened the sense of awe and respect. These were extremely talented musicians, individual characters. Steve McDonald had always been generous with his time for fans. Fans revered Tammy Glover who turned out to be great. Jim Wilson was amazingly friendly, a really interesting and inspiring musicophile, yet with a humble kindliness. Marcus Blake had unwittingly become regarded a heartthrob by some of the young girls. The unfolding zaniness of Steven Nistor delighted fans, who threw wacky socks onto the stage.

The ladies at Republic Media were the epitome of efficiency. I shudder to guess everything Sue Harris had in hand at any one given time through the frantic month. In the midst of Spectacular busyness, I encountered a problem with some merchandise and Lucy had replaced it in 24 hours, unbelievably. Afterward, the company was nominated for a PR Award.

No-one ever mentioned bumping into Ron or Russell in the street. Perhaps people did. Frankly, being indiscreet about our heroes was frowned upon in the fans community. On stage, Russell once jokily expressed jealousy towards some in the front row who possessed Oyster cards. Evidently he had made the odd trip on the tube.

Ten years ago today in Shepherd's Bush, a line of dedicated fans had formed on the steps of the so grand entrance to the Empire Theatre. Many fans were taking snaps of its frontage for this historical event.

An Irish themed pub had been found for the pre-show drink. After the hospitality on parade inside the Eddie, this place felt characterless and unwelcoming. It was only the preponderance of familiar faces arriving that cheered our jaded clan up. Nonetheless, there were certain friends conspicuously missing, prompting restless wanders to a lookout spot at the entrance. Our lot was taking up half the pub but being met with cold indifference by the staff.

People were apprehensive about this gig. Sparks had a lot to live up to after the first twenty albums. Lil' Beethoven and Hello Young Lovers had been presented as theatre rather than straightforward gigs. It was assumed this third, in the trilogy we had coined, would be equally ambitious. Are my sources correct I wondered - there were to be dancing girls involved as well? How, in under two days, could they rehearse all that? With twenty tiptop performances, the worst injustice was for the anticipated climax to go pear shaped. It was this show that meant most to R&R. Thus it meant most to us fans. And, this wasn't our manor, Islington, where it was just us, this was Shepherd's Bush, home of TV. And, there were all the reasons under the sun that was the one most likely to go wrong.

Every day of 21x21 created its own distinct time period. Time went slowly when it had to accommodate so much going on. You had more fun in one night of 21x21 than you had all year normally. Indeed, for every concert, there seemed a year in between. And no gap was more pronounced than the hours which led from Hello Young Lovers to Exotic Creatures of the Deep.

Conversations between fans were indicative to the melancholy on the blue horizon. Some were counting down the hours to the flight(s) back home. Others were blurting out hitherto untold anecdotes about how, when their life seemed to be going under, a Sparks disk kept them afloat. We were with firm friends, who in a few hours, we might never see again. There was only one antidote to gloom, and it was that which was proven to get everyone through some hardships and stress during that month in the big smoke, a Sparks show.

Inside the Empire, there were many bodies in the darkness. A busyness and chatter was uplifting. A sizeable crowd had come for this new album and there was not much space left. The sight of Steven Nistor's drum kit made me feel at home, comforted, like Grandad's armchair. The kit was placed behind a huge gilded frame, as were the spots for the guitarists to stand. Arty, it communicated that our musicians were valued.

The CD of Exotic Creatures of the Deep had been listened to from the Borders Bookshop signing. We all had our favourites. Plenty merry debate there had been about what gems should be future singles. People had pieced together the song lyrics and conjectured some sort of unfolding story about a relationship that had gone wrong. Any metaphor had been analysed endlessly in the Eddie. The album was certainly admired, likeable, challenging. However, it had twenty competitors for favourite, of which were suddenly sounding better than ever.

The lulling intro was hummed by the band and an off-stage Russell. A troupe of female dancers appeared pushing shopping trollies, which felt surreal, as my brain scrambled to work out the significance. Occupying the middle of the stage was a bed with its covers pulled up.

As "Good Morning" began, Ron sprang up from the bed. Girls shrieked. They hadn't been able to see he was inside the bed. Russell bounded up and down the stage replicating the stratospheric falsetto vocals from the single.

A polite Ron introduced, "Strange Animal" explaining how all the songs on the album were related bar this one. He then spoke the opening verse. Russell singing, accelerated to breakneck speed. The band were heavy and lightning quick like a well oiled juggernaut which had crossed a summit. The crowd went wild.

Everyone had been looking forward to "I Can't Believe That You Would Fall For All the Crap in this Song". Infectious and stomping, its vocal style was reminiscent from the glam rock era, which combined with its contemporary synth pop vibe, made us want to groove. Ron and Russell performed synchronised hand movements to the chorus. We sung along merrily.

"Let the Monkey Drive" sparked chortles with the chimp on screen. Fleetingly, we got the Ron shuffle too.

The reprise of the introduction had the band humming. Throughout 21x21, quieter moments in tunes had benefited from Steven Nistor's meticulousness with a wide range of percussion. This was a prime example. Much of the Sparks live sound people assumed was being made by Ron's synth were actually being delivered by Steve's delicate and versatile use of percussion.

"I've Never Been High" had caused me some trepidation. Terrified I'd been that Ron might be raised up from the stage on some invisible wire in a barely rehearsed stunt. Thankfully, he was safely locked into producing that so grand piano accompaniment to Russell's softly powerful vocals. I heaved a sigh of relief that the acrobatics were being confined to Russell's falsetto.

"(She Got Me) Pregnant" was a spectacular performance piece I'll never forget. Ron was surrounded by dancers dressed up as him! Hilarious.

Sometime during the concert, my pal nudging me, mouthed "WOW".

One or twice, I moved round the theatre. Everywhere the crowd was transfixed. Even some of the security and bar staff seemed to be gawping at the performance in astonishment.

"Lighten Up, Morrissey" began with Jim Wilson chiming guitar. Sparks had performed in on the BBC's the Culture Show. There was a plethora of rumours proclaiming that certain celebrities were in various nooks and crannies of the building.

"This is the Renaissance" looked and sounded beautiful. The dancers formed tableaux vivants at the start of the piece. As the song moved forward to the verse hailing the dawning of a new day, modern titles came on screen and Russell changed tone from pious singer to showman announcer.

"The Director Never Called "Cut"" had a single dancer snapping the clapperboard to the beat.

"Photoshop" had some hilarious interactions between Ron and the screen. He was trying to play a piano sketched in chalk, which was constantly being frenetically redrawn.

An extended version of "Likeable" ushered the end of 21x21. It contained a lengthy reprise of the hummed introduction. On screen appeared the first Sparks album triggering cheers. Then Ron reached over with a lighter and the graphic went up in flames. Wtf? Welling up we were - this was our treasure. Next came "A Woofer in Tweeters Clothing". More flames. And so on. Although cheers were blurting out, the audience was really struggling with this; sound had to navigate a lump in the throat. Finally, when Exotic Creatures of the Deep appeared, Ron hesitated and chucked away the lighter to a great cheer. Many moons later, Russell spoke of an album receiving the third best response then from the audience. I wouldn't have been able to determine any sort of order, let alone recall it in the future. In fact, all the albums generated hearty cheers. Many fans have since agreed that the symbolic burning of the albums was the least likeable stage piece in Sparks' history.

That ended the performance of "Exotic Creatures of the Deep". Brilliant beyond even the most ardent fan's wildest dreams this show had been. Sparks surpassed all expectations. The audience reaction was rapturous. Punters in the Eddie must've been able to hear the applause.


The Ultimate encore was to be compiled from fans voting via this forum on songs for this finale. It was another factor fuelling my anxiety. Exotic Creatures of the Deep was a huge album in itself, containing thirteen tracks, several very complex. Every other night had a single song as the encore, bar one odd exception, and this undertaking seemed an unfeasible stretch. And, I fretted about how familiar the band were to some of the more obscure tracks being mooted. I didn't want to risk voting for something potentially problematic, and ended up abstaining. I felt spoiled having benefited from such a array of music over the month already.

"Moustache" seemed to have tickled the audience's fancy, and this Angst in My Pants number got the show back rolling.

"Looks Aren't Everything", a previous encore unearthed from the back of the archive, was met with a massive cheer. Evidently fans were giving a message to Sparks that they would make sure their work would outlast any past record company imperious reaction.

"Big Boy" was one the songs that the Spectacular band had blown the dust off. The audience had been blown away by its muscular performance during the Big Beat night. And the band were rocking it tonight.

"Goofing Off" had been an unforeseen highlight during the Introducing Sparks concert, an obvious inclusion to the programme of favourites. Russell had fun with audience, toying with its pace.

"Those Mysteries" was another standout performance from the Introducing Sparks gig, which was so memorable as to inspire this thread ten years to the day.

"Dick Around" regarded best song, had to feature, and was given a performance befitting a great.

My inkling that the order of songs continued as follows, but I may be mistaken:

Fans had been desperate to hear, "What Would Katherine Hepburn Say?" before it was played an encore to Balls. Insisting it was not even a Sparks song, Russell nonetheless gave a stellar performance. Again, Jim Wilson rewarded with a superb guitar solo.

Russell announced that they were going to feature Ron on "Shopping Mall of Love", giving fans the opportunity to hear the great man speaking the repetitive words into the mike, while Russell sung the tune.

Next Russell welcomed back the brass section from Trinity College. This was treat after treat, a real extravaganza. Stamping and clapping along deliriously, the crowd were singing the tune to "Get in the Swing" before Russell came in with the vocals.

It was followed up with the big band style, "Looks Looks Looks", instantly another singalong.

As the musicians left, Russell brought the established line-up to the front of stage to face a noisily appreciative audience. The show was nearly over. It was something no-one else would ever do. Very true, Russell.

A further encore kicked off with the quirky "Batteries Not Included", which delighted fans. Everyone sang the titular words, the sting in the tale. And treat followed treat, as it slickly moved into "Whippings and Apologies" like on the second album. Cheers aplenty.

"Change" was always a touching finisher, so it really was the sad end. The band left to incessant applause and roars.

Thinking it had to be all over, some of the crowd had already made for the exits. The rest didn't want to leave the theatre. People were saying it was the best thing they'd ever been to. In fact, one was heard to correct himself saying it was the best show he'd ever be to. But the musicians reappeared for one last time for "This Town Aint Big Enough for the Both of Us".

Some fans opted to linger by the stage door. Islington afforded ample opportunity to see R&R and the band, but it seemed people just didn't want to let them go.

As soon as guitars were being laid down, they were being packed up for a flight to Estonia in a few hours time. Unbelievably, Sparks were pursuing an invitation to play a rock festival there the very next day. Then they would cross the Baltic to Helsinki to play before travelling immediately back for a spot in Vilnius. For Sparks there had been no end to the Spectacular, it just extended to another set-list, another show.

The Irish pub nearby was where we reconvened. When bouncers turned away the remainder of the gang following, we just upped and left, such was our camaraderie. We immediately resolved to pile into taxis to go back to the very lane in Islington where we had queued excitedly to hear the first ever album played live. As ever, the Eddie welcomed us in. Even once the pub closed, we were outside in the street posing for group photos.

And so that's how the Sparks Spectacular ended, exactly as it began. It was all about the fans enjoyment while Sparks and their fine team were absorbed in an impossible work schedule.