- This review may come across like me fighting against my own comprehension because after all these years and countless hours listening to Sparks, I’m still unsure what their special sauce is, what their Chemical X is, what their radioactive spider, or what their ooze. For twenty-five -now twenty-six- records and soon-to-be two musicals, the Mael Brothers have fortified their place as a peerless entity but one whose essence trickles down with even Jack Antanoff being quoted as saying “all pop music is Sparks rearranged”. This idiosyncratic nature has lead Sparks to being both ahead of the curve and a sound all unto themselves; and now The Girl Is Crying In Her Latte acts as a buffet of brilliance with listeners getting a taster for why this ever-evolving group is so beloved.

While the record doesn’t flow like a cohesive unit and -as spoken about ad nauseam- those are my favourite releases, what This Girl does is put on a perfect exhibition of how Sparks can wear different genres like an oversized, bright-yellow suit and still retain that undeniable Sparks essence. I’ve seen people refer to it as Sparksian and when you’ve a term coined after yourself, the impact clearly runs deep. Let me explain and hold up two examples on this record to demonstrate. We’ll start with the third single: Nothing Is As Good As They Say It Is, which is mid-paced post-punk jaunt that operates with all the hallmarks of a pop song. It fits snuggly under the preferred run time. Defined hooks are repeated to great effect and the song title makes up a great deal of those hooks. The simple, standard band instrumentation is all in service to the vocals while allowing for a solo towards the latter third. One step past that veneer and you realise this song is about a newborn lamenting the world where they have been unwillingly thrust into existence (Thank you Heidegger). It's catchy in how repetitive it is and behind the façade, there’s a wry smile; it's so very Sparks.

Now if you’ll follow me over to Take Me For A Ride, we’ll see another track that is so very Sparks but for an entirely different reason. The repetition remains as Russel Mael frantically asks for a ride while performing impeccable vocal gymnastics to match the instrumental melody. Here we find a musical accompaniment to the getaway scene in a crime musical with its anxious, frenetic movement intercut with chugging guitars and stall-shaking drums. Again though, it's all washed away as we find the gripping narrative is just a shared fantasy between two average people, one which has the best refrain to ever reference a Chevy Powerglide; it’s so very Sparks.

I could substitute any other set of contrasting songs to illustrate my point on how, regardless of what their contents are, everything sounds exactly like a Sparks song. When You Leave is a malicious laundry-list of ways people will celebrate once you’ve buggered off, set to a beautifully arranged pseudo-ballad; Veronica Lake is a tightly whispered tale about manufacturing line, hair-based accidents over scuttling electronics and Gee, That Was Fun comes across like a death-bed meditation; and if it wad written by any other band, I’d guess it was their farewell to the audience.

It’s no secret that Sparks are one of my favourite bands of all time and my adoration for the brothers Mael runs deep. Before my first ever radio show, I heard Tips for Teens as the theme song for the show before me and it took me a good six months to realise it was an actual song and not something Josh used only for his show. Nearly a decade later, I’m still being bamboozled and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

- Matt Lynch.