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Angst In My Pants

by

Sparks

 
Angst In My Pants
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Avg: 4.5 (75 ratings)

A happy fraternal marriage made in rock & roll heaven.

  • We Say...

    Review by Ira Robbins

    Nearly a decade after their dizzying spin through the teenybopper whirl of British glam-rock stardom, having worked through a pair of dud rock albums and a lucrative creative bask on the Eurodisco Riviera, Sparks (Californian brothers Ron and Russell Mael) returned to the sinfully witty realm of high-concept pop, finding the surest, smartest footing of a very entertaining stretch with this 1982 release. Produced in Munich by Mack ("for Giorgio Moroder Enterprises") with former members of LA new wavers Gleaming Spires as the backing band, Angst in My Pants is chockablock with the three essential components of Sparks: melody, ingenuity and highly cushioned but deeply sardonic irony. The cover photo of a demure Ron in a wedding dress, arm in arm with his grinning silver-suited brother, is a good indication of the absurdity at play here.

    With deadpan charm, the Maels skip merrily through an eclectic menu that addresses such eclectic topics as cigarette smoking ("Nicotina"), Disney stars ("Mickey Mouse"), literary figures ("Sherlock Holmes," "Tarzan and Jane"), dieting ("Instant Weight Loss"). Oh, and sex: "Angst in My Pants," "Sextown U.S.A.," "Eaten by the Monster of Love." In a pinnacle of reflexive magic, like a film actor suddenly addressing the camera as himself, the tabloid-twitting "I Predict" ("They're gonna find the Queen is a man/ But that Philip don't care") fades out as Russell offers one final feat of prognostication: "And this song will fade out."

    Holding a blinding Mael mirror up to the short-sighted, "Moustache" alludes to long-standing Hitlerian (as opposed to the intended Chaplinesque) comparisons to Ron's lip hair: "I tried a handlebar design…but when I trimmed it real small/ My Jewish friends would never call." (Such sensitivity was not a new topic for the Maels, who sang of bringing home a "Girl from Germany" on 1972's A Woofer in Tweeter's Clothing, their second album.)

    If the music on Angst bears a residual trace of the time Sparks spent on the dancefloor with Moroder and 1979's No. 1 in Heaven — namely in the repetition of lines — these songs have an unstoppable verbal momentum, with enough meaty verses to keep the choruses in their place. After inadvisably allowing collaborators to undercut their unique gifts as songwriters, the Maels here reassert the strength of their hermetic universe, a happy fraternal marriage made in rock & roll heaven.

  • They Say...

    Review by Dave Connolly, All Music Guide

    Although mired in a rut of merely "good" albums, Sparks had offered occasional glimpses of their old greatness on each, fanning the dim hope that they might climb again to previous heights. The faithful were rewarded with Angst in My Pants, the first album in years (and, sadly, the last) that puts their pop genius to good use. The differences between this album and the inferior Whomp That Sucker are subtle but important. First, the material is much better (OK, that's not so subtle). Second, the band is brought up in the mix at the expense of the synthesizer, and the result feels more like their old power pop than the new wave/disco sound of recent efforts. Lastly, Russell Mael's voice is lower; he still hits the high notes on occasion, but for the most part this is an album of pop songs you can actually sing along with (and the lyric sheet, while provided, isn't necessary this time). Still pegged as a novelty act, the colorless "I Predict" was selected as the album's single; "Eaten By the Monster of Love" didn't catch on with radio stations, but it's a much better representative of the album. Other highlights include the wonderfully silly "Moustache," a Beach Boys send-up in "Sextown U.S.A.," and the strange but sympathetic love song "Sherlock Holmes." Throughout the record, Sparks succeeds not by pushing a pipe full of music through a thin straw (as they did on classics like Propaganda) but by giving their ideas the space they need to succeed. As a result, it's not an overwhelming record, simply an ingratiating one. Unfortunately, the subsequent Sparks in Outer Space returned to the mechanical pace of their post-disco product, which makes Angst in My Pants a warm exception within Sparks' protracted creative cold spell.

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