Sparks: Lawnmower

Krautrock's Motorik meets David Byrne's middle class irony with Beach Boy's harmonies. Wrapped up in all of that pretty package is a commentary on suburban life and relationships. Jealous neighbors, men who are lawn proud, and women who have had it up to here with the stupidity.

The fact it was made in self-isolation just adds to the claustrophobia which is a nice juxtaposition to the open landscape. The new album, A Steady Drip, Drip, Drip is fantastic.

Few bands take wit as seriously and music as humorously as Sparks. And it's a hard trick to pull off. Songs like "I can't believe that you would fall for all the crap in this song," wouldn't work as well as it did if the song didn't wasn't well-crafted.

Ween can trace their lineage to Sparks. Bryan Scary also comes to mind, sort of, as well as Squeeze's best moments. Same with Neil Hannon from Divine Comedy or Noel Coward for that matter.

We need more tongues in cheeks. Especially now when the world looks like it's in shambles. I can't remember a time when the world didn't look like that. Surely, we're all getting tired of seriousness and the smoke billowing out from the perpetual outrage factory, aren't we?

Also: If you aren't following me on Twitter you probably should.