ladyislingering
retired
What happens when you mix big bands, swing numbers, perversion, glam, and a hint of new wave's predecessor? Ask Tony Visconti, who produced the fifth album by Los Angeles natives Ron and Russell Mael (collectively known as Sparks) during the fall of 1975.
Living up well to its name, the album was called "Indiscreet". Despite the fact that it wasn't as successful as "Kimono My House" (1974) or "Propaganda" (1974) it reached no. 18 on the UK album chart during the year of its release. It was Sparks' 3rd album with Island records and their first working with Visconti (who had also produced multiple albums for the likes of David Bowie, T-Rex, The Moody Blues, and recently Morrissey).
"Indiscreet"'s cover is as unique as the majority of Sparks' past and forthcoming records, featuring the brothers in the wreckage of an airplane. Russ, having been ejected from the plane in the event of a perceived crash, and Ron staring puzzled, wondering where it all went wrong.
Its cover/sleeve, cleverly arranged as the music inside, was issued by default a gatefold sleeve. On the inside, lyrics to all the songs on the album, and the photo featured below:
Sparks' lineup was much the same since "Propaganda", featuring brothers Ron and Russell Mael, Ian Hampton (bass), Norman "Dinky" Diamond (drums), and Trevor White (guitar).
Beginning rather quietly with "Hospitality on Parade", the vocals are at first very prominent; the production is gentle enough to give way to the lyrics, first and foremost, which are constantly up in debate. My perception of the song is that it's the story of consumerism. According to Russell (feigning a very nice accent here) in this video it's a brief "history of the United States of America, wrapped up in about two verses."
"Hospitality" is but a warm-up for the next track, "Happy Hunting Ground", a piano-heavy hyperactive account of a man's desire to get back to his younger days. Ladies of his age group have grown stale, boring, and bland.
The lyrics are delivered with blindingly fast precision; the entire band appears to be involved in this giant production of perverse desire. A few of my favourite lines from this song:
Living up well to its name, the album was called "Indiscreet". Despite the fact that it wasn't as successful as "Kimono My House" (1974) or "Propaganda" (1974) it reached no. 18 on the UK album chart during the year of its release. It was Sparks' 3rd album with Island records and their first working with Visconti (who had also produced multiple albums for the likes of David Bowie, T-Rex, The Moody Blues, and recently Morrissey).
"Indiscreet"'s cover is as unique as the majority of Sparks' past and forthcoming records, featuring the brothers in the wreckage of an airplane. Russ, having been ejected from the plane in the event of a perceived crash, and Ron staring puzzled, wondering where it all went wrong.
Its cover/sleeve, cleverly arranged as the music inside, was issued by default a gatefold sleeve. On the inside, lyrics to all the songs on the album, and the photo featured below:
Sparks' lineup was much the same since "Propaganda", featuring brothers Ron and Russell Mael, Ian Hampton (bass), Norman "Dinky" Diamond (drums), and Trevor White (guitar).
Beginning rather quietly with "Hospitality on Parade", the vocals are at first very prominent; the production is gentle enough to give way to the lyrics, first and foremost, which are constantly up in debate. My perception of the song is that it's the story of consumerism. According to Russell (feigning a very nice accent here) in this video it's a brief "history of the United States of America, wrapped up in about two verses."
How best to act a king when always treated like a king.
"Hospitality" is but a warm-up for the next track, "Happy Hunting Ground", a piano-heavy hyperactive account of a man's desire to get back to his younger days. Ladies of his age group have grown stale, boring, and bland.
The lyrics are delivered with blindingly fast precision; the entire band appears to be involved in this giant production of perverse desire. A few of my favourite lines from this song:
I've gotta get back inside there. Back where at least they're alive.
I've danced and I've worn out my shoes.
Now I'm in trouble, I know it.
Oh, please, let me back into school!
As soon as a girl leaves their refuge, out go the reasons they're great.
A more mellow, though equally piano-heavy track follows. With a sweetly forced French accent and a little bit of vocal swagger, the vocals once again give way to the incredible lyrics.
"Without Using Hands" (which I once wrote a parody of, called "Without Wearing Pants") is a tune that proves difficult to analyze for the many concepts it could possibly cover.
From the outside, at least, the story begins at the Ritz hotel, telling of the elegance, prosperity, and wealth of its patrons. They act with such eloquence and grace, for "the only way children are punished, unlike old times, is without using hands". Putting on heirs and smiles, they gather together for a gathering or party of some sort.
Without warning toward the end of the song, the listener is greeted with this charming little lyric:
When the explosion rocked the lobby of the Ritz hotel,
nobody moved for fear of learning that they weren't all that well.
Is there anybody missing?
Answer only if you're well!
Only the manager suffered, but at least his face looks well.
Ending with this quip (suggesting that the jig is up, and there's going to be no more BSing) :
The manager's going to live his entire life without using hands.
The song's title is then repeated several times, just above a whisper, and in such a way that you can almost SEE the pouting of Russell's face.
"Get in the Swing" should nearly be introduced with a dance troupe. Reaching #26 in the UK that year, Sparks performed this on multiple occasions, including TV appearances aplenty.
Seen here on ToTP (golly, would you LOOK at those thighs?!)
Brass, drums, whistles chants, and an earworm of a chorus. Would anyone really ask for more?
A few of my favourite lyrics from "Get in the Swing":
The night is younger than the girl who's got the touch.
But not by much.
But they have their friends
and have a warm bed waiting
just like I do with you
I'm happy, I'm happy, oh happy . . .
Aside from being a pleasant tune, the lyrics seem to have a sinister approach to describing the perks of social isolation. Of course, that's all up to debate as well.
With a string arrangement provided by producer Tony Visconti, "Under the Table With Her" is frisky as its title. It's all strings and Russell's finely tuned dog-whistle voice. A snarky, sleazy account of a dinner party follows "dinner for twelve" as it turns into "dinner for ten" when the protagonist slips under the table with a pretty girl belonging to the guest family.
He's able to get away with this because "nobody misses diminutive offspring, not when there's bigwigs there".
Two and a half minutes is all you really need. Or can possibly handle, for that matter.
My favourite lyric from this track:
I give a yelp and they throw me a cutlet.
Somebody pats her hair, hair.
Everyone's nice to the subhuman species -
I'm under the table with her.
Sleaze runs much higher in the conclusion of side A of "Indiscreet", featuring a protagonist that wants to take a girl home, working off her best interest alone, smoothly allowing her to lead him on.
"How Are You Getting Home?" stands alone: "no, I'm really only curious - how ARE you getting home?" With a traditional guitar n' drums type of sound, this track is just as crazy-hyper as the majority.
A few of my favourite lines:
We've got one thing in common, baby.
We're too good to be at this party.
We're too good to be anywhere but inside my car.
What I like is your independence.
Real spunk, real independence.
And there's my car.
(side B is coming up next.)