Sparks - "The Girl Is Crying In Her Latte" (Island, 2023)

It’s no coincidence that I’m reading Marcel Proust’s In Search of Lost Time and listening to the new masterful album by Sparks. Their latest collection of songs brings memories of the past, but it is defined so that the work is unique in its approach. For one, the instrumentation is more like modern theater music, or maybe it can even work as a ballet. There are faint memories of sounds from the classic Island Records era and the direction stated in their other masterpiece Lil’ Beethoven. It’s the instrumentation of rock n’ roll, but it is taken to another level. It is rock as if Chuck Berry was not the foundation of the beat but the rhythms of a symphonic work by Stravinsky. Russell Mael is branching out as an actor who sings and conveys another level of telling a tale by expressing the words of his brother Ron Mael. And as time goes by, it seems they take to aging as a strength instead of looking over their shoulders as they obtain a sound they invented and others try to grasp. No pun intended (due to their record company), but they are on an Island of their making.

The entire album, The Girl Is Crying In Her Latte, is funny, but for me, there is a tragedy of loneliness that is very much in the thoughts and hearts of those who wander through this world of disappointment. The beauty of Sparks on their new recording is that they can dramatize the small moments and bring them into a grand gesture that is very much like an Opera or Broadway musical. A melody by Ron and Russell is not only whistlable but is a pocket symphony that conveys the largeness of one’s emotions set in place.

Repetition is very much a Sparks’ motif in the 21st century, it is very circular, and the beginning meets the end. The title song focuses on a girl who is not having a good day in a coffee shop, but then the camera pulls up, and we have an aural view of maybe more people not having the grandest day in the private hell of their space in a public location. But then, at the end of the song, the focus is again on the girl crying in her latte. Something that takes a few seconds of observation becomes a majestic overview of emotional disarray. Escalator is that moment when you see someone attractive, and they’re going up as you go down, and by the time both of you are delivered to your space, the moment is gone, except in the memory of the singer.

I brought up Proust here because of the method of exploring the inner world by noticing the little things that happen or can be presented due to one’s sense of smell, sight, touch, and of course, hearing. As a listener, I do not hear the same melodies or lyrics, but the presence of the past in the new album is like the taste of a mixture of the cookie and tea. Still, it’s an engine that kicks starts a new way of approaching a subject matter that is consistently reinvented and conveyed with a such incredible skill that I often think, “How do those guys come up with this stuff.”

This late era of Sparks is a unique process where they articulate their aesthetic to a practice of perfection. There is no hesitance or second-guessing; they know exactly what they are doing. One thinks all artists know this path, but it’s surprising that, often, even the great ones lose their pathway to greatness. Sparks know their route, the backways, and detours, yet they have come up with another masterpiece album. The journey is thrilling, and at first listening, I’m nervous about what is coming up next. Once the songs are delivered, you discover your seats are exceptional. The album places you in the center, where you have a clear view of mental pictures with the help of the music. I will go with Laura and will go faster because Ron and Russell are driving the vehicle. There are actions being taken place, such as a couple on the lam (Gun Crazy or Bonnie & Clyde), The Mona Lisa coming to life and seeking a vacation from the Louvre, and North Korea having a bit of fun in the only way they know in having fun. The Girl Is Crying In Her Latte is a work of brilliance, that has more to do with the classic medium of songwriting such as Cole Porter and others of that tradition, but with the compositional skills of Stravinsky, Kurt Weill, and other 20th century modernistic classical composers. It’s pop music but filtered through the sensibility of Modernism as produced in the last century. I’m in good hands, and my emotional state is served well by this remarkable work from Sparks.