Daily Mael 1975


Haha. Fantastic little curio where the wedding vows between said couple are sung over a crackly phone line. Emotional.

A return to a quirky delivery and lyrics dripping in sarcasm. ‘Their communication? much like ours but with a drier sort of air.’ Yes, peculiar creatures those English. There’s some fabulous twangy guitar bits in this and stomping drums too.

Extremely OTT string arrangement of The Beatles classic with lush production and not a lot of laughs except the backing vocal ‘touch me!’ There’s one off kilter string bit near the end but that’s about it.

Grand sustained piano opening leading into classic oompah Sparks here. One of those melodies you’re sure you’ve heard before somewhere, but which totally worms its way into your brain. Nice manly, Russian type chorus backing too.

Such a brilliant song with a feeling of an epic ballad. The subject matter conveys the mindset of those people who only go to concerts etc. because it’s an ‘event’ and not for the love of the performance, hence they don’t mind if they miss the start or the end.

The big band direction I never imagined Sparks taking. Whilst again, initially repulsed by this when it came out I’ve grown to really love it. A sure sign of their timeless appeal. Trading on the old ‘looks versus books’ rivalry, it sweeps along effortlessly whilst dropping some killer lines.

Just as Indiscreet appears to be following its own distinct path, this one harks back to a more Kimono My House style. Ironic really, as it’s about seeing the future through rose tinted glasses. The manic delusion is palpable.

Has a spy movie type vibe. It’s all very mysterious as the guy tries to read the signals from a Lauren Bacallesque figure. It certainly has me puzzled. ‘Where are all the funny phrases that are always followed by goodbye?’

Yeeha! Cannae beat a bit of fiddle music. And why not? This fun hoedown fairly skips along, weaving its magic round a tale of a couple happy to stay in the past despite protestations from their wealthy neighbours who try to bring them up to date.

Almost Fall-like at the beginning until the toytown melody kicks in. Then it’s on to a fabulous drinking song as the old soak at the bar confides in his pal, Harry, about how his wife’s tits, ‘once a source of fun and games’ are now ‘only there to feed our little Joe.’

An ode to the chunkiest of tropical fruit and it’s absolutely delicious. Russell’s imagination running wild and free on this one where casements of the delicacy are sent to prisons and schools

What starts out as a sweet and lush anthemic ballad ends up in a rock n roll wig out. Brilliant. Enticing a fellow guest away from a dull party is the name of the game.

And now we’re back to the 18th Century in this string laden diminutive ditty. Two kids impersonate dogs under the dinner table and are thrown scraps and patted. File under batshit crazy.

This is when I remember thinking, Whoah, what the bejeezus are they up to now? Swing? Brass? Was dumbfounded and a little disappointed with this one initially, but now can certainly jump right in with this joyous romp. You think you have the measure of it then another melodic and lyrical twist is thrown in.

Like a song from the soundtrack of That’s Jazz, the delightful refrain recalls both 20s and 40s France. Twenties, in that it sounds like a flapper tune and 40s in that, the Nazi occupation of the Ritz for their HQ is brought to mind.

Ron knows he’s skating on thin ice here, but at least he doesn’t skirt around the issue. ‘How to say it, and not to offend’ indeed. The ‘It’s fair, fair game inside’ is a marvellous bit as is the two note piano and guitar sequence.

Terribly stiff upper lip English pronunciations going on here. As befits a parade the music is as strident as a march, especially so when the guitar riff eventually kicks in. Ten hut!




1967 – 1969

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