Original image by There Stands the Glass. The ticket’s comp label is misleading. I paid a pretty penny for it.
My earliest experiences with Sparks consisted of a series of disappointments. The band’s albums were staples of record store cutout bins in the 1970s. Intrigued by loopy cover art as a kid, I sporadically picked up much of their catalog at prices ranging from 25 to 99 cents. I was let down every time. Sparks’ lyrical and musical aesthetic was beyond my limited comprehension.
Knowing it was likely the only chance I’d have to witness a performance by the storied cult band, I splurged on a ticket to Sparks’ sold-out concert at the Crystal Ballroom in Portland on Sunday, March 13. After a handful of Blurty Bobs amid the audience of 1,500 were shamed into silence by hardcore fans in the first ten minutes of the 80-minute show, I grasped what had previously eluded me.
Accustomed to radio-ready pop, I didn’t understand Sparks’ allusions to the droll work of Bertolt Brecht and Kurt Weill when I was an uncultivated youth. Seeing the Mael brothers and their excellent accompanists render their repertoire of Weimar Republic-style cabaret songs as an aged bookworm brought Sparks into focus. My favorite new band is old. And I’m beside myself at the prospect of finally catching up.