Thursday, April 6, 2023

A Real Communication Flair: Sparks' Way with Words

 

A Real Communication Flair:  Sparks’ Way With Words

            I have been thinking a lot recently about different aspects of the themes of language and communication in Sparks’ songs, and, not surprisingly, have discovered a wide range of approaches, from the comic to the tragic, the subtle to the not so subtle, and sometimes, all of these at once.

First up, however, a look at the part played by languages other than English in Sparks’ work.

Foreign words

The use of, and reference to, languages other than English has always been a feature of Sparks’ work. Their tours take them to many different countries and, although Ron tends, as a rule, not to speak a foreign language much in public, Russell usually makes a point of addressing the audiences briefly in their own language, a charming strategy that is always warmly welcomed.  In interviews in French-speaking countries especially, Russell holds forth fluently – sometimes accompanied by humorous signs of boredom or impatience on Ron’s part. There is also a handful of songs in which Russell sings totally or partially in French: ‘Je m’appelle Russell,’ of which more later, and ‘Le Louvre’ in which a statue longs to escape confinement in the museum and challenges spectators to try to help, as well as versions of ‘Madonna’ in French, Spanish and German. In the case of ‘Le Louvre’ (A Woofer in Tweeter’s Clothing, 1973), since the statue is in a French museum, perhaps there is a kind of logic that it should address onlookers in French as well as English. ‘Madonna’ from Interior Design (1988), appeared in the decade when Sparks were achieving particular success in France, so offering different versions of the song about the fantasy (or good fortune) of a fan of a global superstar was perhaps designed to appeal to new European audiences.  Sparks’ love of French culture was manifested most recently in ‘Edith Piaf said it better than me’ (Hippopotamus, 2017), which uses the title of the best known song of the French chanteuse as a basis for a narrative of the narrator’s feelings about his own life. ‘Pretty song but not intended for me’ - unlike the characters in her songs, and indeed her own colourful and tragic life, this guy has had no experiences in his life worthy of regret and laments the passing of opportunities with age: ‘Too late for that, too late for that’.

Then, of course, there is ‘Wunderbar (Concerto in Koch Minor)’, commissioned by a German broadcasting company in 2001 for a compilation album in honour of the famous football commentator Günter Koch, on which samples of his words are set to music (Günter Koch Revisited (Voll in Den Mann). Sparks’ contribution places a variety of his characteristic exclamations ( ‘fussball, fussball’, ‘das ist wunderbar’, ‘das ist nicht zu fassen’ ‘und das war klasse’), sung lustily by Russell, against an orchestral backing. The repetition creates a crescendo of excitement which captures the atmosphere of the original commentary. This song also appeared as a bonus track on the deluxe edition of Lil Beethoven (2004), where, of course, the technique of repetitive lyrics plays a crucial part. It has even been suggested that making this track suggested the direction which LB would take.

Sparks have, of course, also worked on collaborative projects with artists from France, Belgium and Japan, sometimes providing English lyrics (as for Telex’s Sex (Birds and Bees) album (1981) and Lio’s Suite Sixtine (1982)) and contributing vocals, like the beautiful ‘La Nuit est là  and ‘Yo quiero más dinero’, from the Grand Popo’s Football Club’s Shampoo Victims (2000). Russell appears as a guest singer on the Japanese group Salon Music’s This is Salon Music album (1987) and on the song ‘Kimono’ on Pizzicato Five’s album Ça et là du Japon (2001).

But reference to foreign languages has a particular and entertaining role to play in many Sparks’ songs………

 

Foreign words as weapons of mass seduction

From early days, the emphasis in many songs is on difficulties in communication in a foreign language or the perils of seduction/relationships without a common language or culture. Indeed, foreign girls feature in many songs.  The 1973 Song ‘Girl from Germany’ (A Woofer In Tweeter’s Clothing) is perhaps the best known song of this kind, which neatly skewers post-Second World War anti-German sentiment. Here the problem is cultural rather than linguistic and it is the narrator’s parents who are horrified at the arrival of his new German girlfriend, because ‘wit and wisdom take a back seat, girl, when you’re that afraid’. 

In most songs where foreign languages are involved, however, language and sex are usually intimately entwined, the lines blurred between sexual and social intercourse. Language may be both a hindrance and a turn-on. In ‘Kiss Me Quick’ (Pulling Rabbits Out Of A Hat, 1984), ‘lips that taste of foreign words and complimentary lies/ Lips that make a nervous wreck of any normal guy’ are as much a part of the dangerous sensual attraction in this amorous encounter, as the taste of cigarettes and California wine.

Anxieties about sexual performance often underlie the significance of the language barrier. In ‘Hasta manana monsieur’ (Kimono My House, 1974), the lyrics of which were written by Russell, we meet a familiar Sparks’ character: a guy whose desires are not matched by reality. We see the narrator’s unwarranted confidence in his seductive technique and his pride in using a foreign phrase, assuming the girl will be impressed by it. Unfortunately, with typical Sparksian humour, this lothario’s arrogant and patronising attitude is punctured by the fact that his ill-digested mixed-up words actually imply farewell. A little learning is a dangerous thing, indeed! He is open about his lack of linguistic skill (‘Leaving my syntax back at school? I was thrown for a loss over gender and simple rules’), which is equalled by his lack of cultural knowledge (‘You mentioned Kant and I was shocked/ You know, where I come from, none of the girls have such foul tongues).  The phrase ‘Kimono my house, mon amor,’ which gives the album its title, both reiterates this idea, while offering a nod to Rosemary Clooney’s 1951 song ‘Come on-a my house’. For this guy, a token phrase in a foreign language is merely a prelude and means to a very specific end. Convinced that his actions ‘needs no accompanying words’, he is put out when the girl leaves abruptly. Clearly, his other talents were not enticing enough. His plight further satirises the common (or arrogant) reluctance of English speakers to learn a foreign language, unlike the foreign girl here who is keen to communicate information about her own country, presumably in English, to the narrator’s dismay:  ‘I tried to tell you in the night/ That with a girl like you I could do without guided tours’.  She seems to want some degree of social interaction, while his mind is entirely focussed on a more physical kind. 

In ‘Good Morning’ (Exotic Creatures of the Deep, 2008), the narrator’s failure to understand Do svidaniya (Russian for goodbye) as the girl leaves in the morning is symbolic of his failure to grasp his situation as regards their one night’s stand. It would seem that here too there has been little other conversation, that he can recall anyway, between them, and his ability to say ‘Good Morning’ in other languages does not cut it. Thus, a single everyday expression brilliantly encapsulates the whole story, the singer’s confused sense of his situation, of how it happened and what it means.  In ‘Johnny Delusional’ (FFS, 2015), a similar frustration is seen in that knowing the basic yes and no in different languages doesn’t help the singer to seduce or even get close to the girl, whose indifference or rejection he is unable to interpret.

              On the other hand, in ‘Upstairs’ (Whomp That Sucker, 1981), the desirability of learning foreign words is suggested as the narrator recommends taking foreign girls upstairs for lessons in language and sex.  ‘You are low on foreign words/Better meet a foreign girl/Take a foreign girl upstairs/And learn a lot of foreign words’.   In a song that is ostensibly about the jumbled content inside one’s head, the association of mental and physical stimulations (ideas/thoughts/calculations/jokes/sex) is reminiscent of the association of head and bed in ‘Beaver O’Lindy’  (A Woofer in Tweeter’s Clothing, 1973).

However, in ‘Rocking Girls’ (In Outer Space, 1983), a more sexually confident narrator reveals that, in his experience, a single phrase in English represents a universal language of invitation to sex. Language has truly become, for this guy, a weapon of mass seduction: ‘Take a trip around the world/ All you have to say is/ “Come on, baby”, that gets ‘em everywhere.’ This narrator’s confidence in his seductive powers does not even necessitate learning any foreign words. Moreover, the implications of the phrase ‘rock with me tonight’ illustrates that language can gain meaning beyond itself in its (probably more tactile) context.

Frustration of a bizarre kind are depicted to amusing effect in ‘Je m’appelle Russell’ (previously unreleased song on The Hell Collection,1993), in which the singer highlights the perils of having a foreign girlfriend who is immersed in a culture different from his own. The lyrics are in French, and the couple apparently understand each other perfectly during the day, but in her sleep, she calls him by the names of French entertainers, and, disturbed by her fantasies which exclude him, he has to keep desperately reminding her who he is. This song degenerates humorously into a list of French and American stars of music and film, interspersed with the increasingly desperate cries of ‘no!’. In a note to the Hell collection, Russell facetiously explains that ’we were starting to spend more and more time in France, so we thought it was time to attempt a song in French. As I am the only French-speaking one of the two of us, Ron is still convinced that that the title of the song translates as ‘Our Name is Sparks’.

A foreign language, then, is just one of the hazards to be surmounted in relationships in a Sparks’ song. But even his own language can present problems for the Sparks’ protagonist – see the next thrilling instalment!

 

Penny Brown

March 2023

 

 

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