Sparks

BBC, Top of the Pops, May 1974. And where did these two spring from? Ron: short hair, white shirt and dark tie, mechanical poses, that stunned schizoid stare so similar to the one Johnny Rotten would flaunt three years later with the Sex Pistols on that very same stage, and to top it off a little moustache that – good heavens – prompted "Christ, they've got Hitler on the telly!" (the obligatory quote, attributed to John Lennon when he first saw him on TV). Russell Mael: flowing hair in Jim Morrison style, a quasi-classic black suit at least one size too big (and we mean it, given the outrageous flare of the trousers), a scarf around his neck, hip-shaking moves close to Marc Bolan, and an operatic falsetto grafted on in place of the usual rock howl.

The pretext for this nonsensical pantomime is "This Town Ain't Big Enough for Both of Us", a song that packs into three minutes killer riffs from a synthetic guitar standing in for the usual vocal chorus, mad warbling across dizzying octaves, mock-martial pomp, and a lyric strewn with assorted Dadaisms such as "...the thunder of fleeing rhinoceroses, elephants and gaudy tigers", because "this town ain't big enough for both of us, and it ain't me who's gonna leave." A gut-punch that reached number 2 on the UK singles chart: anyone who manages to read more into it than a bizarre lovers' spat straight out of a western is doing well, yet what we have here is something genuinely revolutionary, one that scrambles the clichés of rock'n'roll no less than the ambiguous Bowie-esque spiders, or the impeccable waiter's uniforms of Mister Bryan Ferry.

It's glam rock, one might say, but in an unprecedented declination. That's because the brothers landed in London straight from their sun-drenched native American West Coast, which eyed them askance for an aesthetic that mixed the British invasion with early-20th-century Mitteleuropean avant-garde, musical theatre and operetta, the proud and the grotesque. The polar opposite of the Grateful Dead's jam sessions or the electric country of David Crosby and Neil Young, Ron and Russell were the two foreign bodies of early-70s Los Angeles: the fact that the only one to take notice of them was a young heretical pop northerner by the name of Todd Rundgren (who would go on to produce their debut album) counts for far more than mere confirmation. Little wonder, then, that after a second, half-hearted attempt with the decent "A Woofer in Tweeter's Clothing", the two UCLA alumni (the famed Californian university where they studied film, theatre and graphic arts) packed their bags for England, which at the time was churning out far more kindred artists such as David Bowie, Roxy Music, T Rex, Slade, Steve Harley and Suzi Quatro.

Theatrics, big guitars, avant-rock and sequins – what else? Standing out amid such competition is no easy feat: it takes exceptional form (read: the "right look") and equally exceptional substance, something that keeps you from being written off as a mere upstart, and indeed the Angelenos prove to have both in spades. Everything, starting with the packaging, is steeped in parody. Ron's Hitler moustache has already been mentioned, and then there's the title, borrowed from a 1951 Rosemary Clooney song, the winking "Come on-a My House", twisted here from "come on-a" into "kimono", which also becomes the pretext for the artwork depicting the two dazed geishas on the cover. Photography duties go to Karl Stoeker, who likewise turns to caricature, abandoning his usual sexy shots: he was, after all, the one who immortalised model Kari-Ann Muller on Roxy Music's debut album, Amanda Lear on the follow-up "For Your Pleasure", and playmate Marilyn Cole on "Stranded".

Running the show is Muff Winwood, Island Records' trusted man, excellent bassist of the Spencer Davis Group, and brother of the far more famous Steve Winwood, while rounding out the all-British lineup are Martin Gordon on bass (he too would go on to become a noted producer, but his time with the Mael brothers ended shortly after the album's release due to irreconcilable artistic differences), Dinky Diamond on drums, and above all the extraordinary shooting star of electric guitar, Adrian Fisher: he's the bold colour on the palette, able to fill the musical sketches drawn by Ron and animated by Russell's vocal acrobatics with the sharp, nervy riffs of a Gibson Les Paul. He too would end up on a collision course with the two leaders, being far more inclined toward hard rock blues than that unusual electric cabaret. And yet that hard-rock soul surges through forcefully even where the solo is replaced by sudden circular riffs ("Thank God It's Not Christmas"), in the mocking arrangements that trade off with startled vocal peaks ("Amateur Hour", the second single released and second UK top ten hit; completing the hat-trick is the album itself, which peaked at number 4), and even in the surreal, decadent parade of "Falling In Love With Myself Again", a title that says it all and which only lacks German-language vocals to be a full-on burlesque send-up of a Third Reich rally.

This variety-show atmosphere reaches its peak with the sui generis charleston that, in its own way, pays tribute to the genius of Albert Einstein in "Talent Is An Asset", and in the neo-Dada swing of "Equator", where Russell improvises a whimpering, androgynous caricature, desperate because his beloved fails to show up for the date they'd set... at the equator. Because, as they say, a laugh will bury us all.

"Kimono My House" is the place where the American musical style of Irving Berlin crashes loudly into the shimmering wall of glam, and where cabaret abandons its theatrical form to become the canvas on which the most serious kind of mockery plays out, laying the groundwork for a devotion that remains untouched to this day. Because the Mael brothers don't just complete the work begun here with the dazzling follow-up "Propaganda", but carry their identity into pre-punk with "Big Beat" (1976), and then into dance music (the Moroder-driven phase that culminated in 1979 with "N°1 In Heaven"). But more broadly, across a career of abrupt stylistic turns and inevitable ups and downs, they cement themselves as one of the most original, eccentric and brilliant projects ever spawned by pop music.

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25/07/2010