Sparks
Indiscreet

A few sentences with meaning about this album? Well, easier said than done, but let's see if I can: well, let's start by saying that "Indiscreet" is without a doubt a peak in the Sparks' production; peak of what, though? Everyone chooses as they like based on their own attitudes and predispositions, but the fact that it's a peak, or LEGEND if you prefer, is not in question at all. Love it, hate it, do as you please, "Indiscreet" is made to provoke strong reactions. The rock structure of "Kimono My House," already partially dismantled with "Propaganda," here is hit full-on by a wrecking ball covered in glittering sequins; the debris remains, scattered here and there in the gardens of the golden era Versailles. One of the most kitschy and rascally albums ever, at an extreme level even for Ron and Russell's standards. Everyone draws their conclusions; I find it absolutely irresistible. If I ever end up on the proverbial deserted island, I would surely find a spot for it in my vanity case, as it could come in handy in the most disparate ways.

After all, they remain the Sparks of the two previous albums, jovial, satirical, infallible tune makers, but this time they rely on an arsenal of orchestrations, harpsichords, jingles, and choruses, a hyper-concentrated and "neoclassical" pomp-pop blasted in the listener's face. The Mael brothers warmly welcome you with "Hospitality On Parade", then a pounding one after another, "Get In The Swing", "Under The Table With Her" (terrible), "Pineapple", "It Ain't 1918" (even more terrible), "Looks Looks Looks" (bonus track but no less terrible than the previous ones, oh, by the way, terrible is meant as terrific, not terrible). The reactions provoked by this vulgar display of power, because it still is a matter of power, can be the most varied, from “what is this garbage” to ecstatic squeals indistinctly defined, passing by a classic “dafuq am I listening” which will probably be the most common. In fact, "Indiscreet" is like a tray full of marzipan fruits, beautifully colored, turgid, heavy, and sugary; if this kind of approach is liked and maybe, as in my case, you have a very, very generous sense of measure, the mouth-watering sensation is already something fabulous in itself.

And then there are those moments when Ron and Russell re-propose that glitzy rock that had made their fortune, we have an arena anthem with all the trimmings, "Happy Hunting Ground", and above all, a brilliant proto-punk hysterical mess like "In The Future", then "The Lady Is Lingering" and "How Are You Getting Home" classic Sparks anthems, and that's perfectly fine. With "T'ts" you arrive, drinking as if there were no tomorrow, at a dialectical synthesis between the various souls of the album, and the melodramatic bonus track "Miss The Start, Miss The End" splendidly concludes the show. And not only that, with "Indiscreet" the most luminous years in the history of the Sparks also close; an album that left many fans of the time unhappy, and although I adore it, I have no difficulty understanding it; compared to its times this album was... was? How was it? Ahead, behind, above, below the table, I honestly have no idea. So, take my 5 for what it is, we are faced with something almost at the limits of the circus, and as such it should be enjoyed. Besides, one cannot say it hasn't left a mark, in things like this or so you can clearly perceive the malefic influence of "Indiscreet", which is another reason to love it.