The Girl Is Crying In Her Latte - An Exploration of Choice and Consequence

Part One: The Message

In 2023 the band Sparks, aka the brothers Ron and Russell Mael, released The Girl Is Crying In Her Latte, their 26th album. The album can be enjoyed for its well-crafted, highly entertaining, music - 14 songs, not a clunker in the bunch. However, I think there’s more at work here: the Mael brothers, after more than 50 years in the business, are imparting some important wisdom about the adventure and journey that is life, based on their unique career and experience in the music business. And they’re doing it the way they know best - through their music.

One could reasonably look at Sparks’ idiosyncratic career as the result of a series of choices, some no doubt harder than others, that the brothers have made over these many years. And that is, I believe the underlying theme of the album: Latte is a meditation on the nature of choice…and the consequences that therefore result.  They are sharing what they’ve learned, looking at the question of choice from many perspectives, including:

• Making a choice - whether discussing their career directly, or commenting on the consequences of individual or societal choice more generally;

• The reluctance to make a choice - and the consequences that can lead to; 

• The inability to make a choice, on both a personal and societal level; and finally,

• The absence of choice, sometimes at a personal level, sometimes more broadly.

This is a statement album - and they are well positioned to make the statement. Ron and Russell Mael have made many unorthodox, unconventional choices over the years - and no doubt many of these have not been easy. Some, from their perspective, have worked out better than others, including from a financial perspective. Yet they always, always, persevered. There’s much to be learned from that.  

That speaks to the nature of choice at its most fundamental level.  If there’s an easy and clear path, it’s usually not a choice at all. But when options are less well defined, not simply wrong or right, good or bad, or black and white, the choice becomes more profound - and more impactful on one’s life journey. That’s what this album may be about - the hard choices that define a life and career - and the lessons one can derive from making, or not making, those choices. 

Part Two: The Album

That this is a serious album is manifested in many ways. The traditional Sparks humor is sparse on this one; used more judiciously than one is used to. And really, one needs to look no further than the cover to see that this album may be untraditional. It is the first album since 1986’s Music That You Can Dance To where the cover does not have a humorous element. The days of Russell and  Ron, the latter in his best wedding gown, celebrating their nuptial vows is long past. Even the last two albums, from 2017 and 2020 respectively, went for the laugh - a hippo in the swimming pool, Ron and Russ overwhelmed by steady dripping. One could argue that “hippo in the swimming pool” is a metaphor for “elephant in the room,” perhaps referring to the fact that they’re getting older; but I’ll leave that for others to reflect upon. 

On the Latte album cover, Ron and Russell look somber, perhaps a little annoyed by and judgmental of the girl who is crying in her latte. The setting is mundane, assumedly a coffee shop but really little more than a black table - no distracting crashed airplanes, hippopotami, boxing rings, or oddly posed pictures from sites around London. 

Compositionally, Ron and Russell are slightly in the background, not the foreground; that space is occupied by the girl crying in her latte. And notice that the title of the album goes straight down the middle, dividing Ron and Russell from the young woman, whom they do not look at directly. This creates a division between themselves, and what they may believe the girl represents. They are observers, not participants. 

It’s telegraphing that something is different this time around. And the lack of sustained humor on the album confirms that they are not coming at us from familiar territory.

And then there’s the music. These songs are pointed statements from Ron and Russell, mostly performed by just the two of them, with band members brought in to help realize the sound and vision that Ron and Russell are looking for. There are exceptions - some songs were clearly written for a band presentation, many of which were played live. They know how to put over a tune. But there’s a lot of lean, almost downcast arrangements on this album. 

Finally, there’s fewer songs written from a familiar Sparks perspective of third-person narrative, and more that seem to reflect observation or experience of Ron and Russell. And in virtually every song there is a persistent theme: the power of choice, and the consequences when it is lacking, either because we fail to make one or we cannot. 

That’s their message: Make the hard choices. Follow your own path. Things will not always go the way you’d like them to, but you’ll be able to look back on the life you’ve lived, on the things you’ve accomplished, and know that you steered the ship. Trust yourself. We did.

You can almost hear them passing on that advice to the girl crying in her latte. 

Part Three: The Songs Themselves

Let’s break it down by song a bit. The opening song (and title track) is at once an observation - the girl isn’t dealing with her issues, she’s just crying about them. Of course it goes well beyond the girl - it’s a broader observation about a society reluctant to make hard choices, and risking dangerous consequences by not doing so - “so many people are crying in their latte.” This is a fun song and a concert highlight.  But it’s also a call to action and an appeal to all of us.

The next song introduces the concept of a lack of choice, which is a theme returned to throughout the album. Veronica Lake is not “forced” to cut her hair; she is, however, strongly pressured into it and in all reality has little choice. And many follow suit. The luxury of choice - and the free will to decide for oneself - is sacrificed for the good of the nation and the world. 

And then there’s our young friend who, through no choice of his own, finds himself in a world not of his liking. He wants out - but it’s not an option. He has made a choice but he is unable to carry it out. "Nothing Is As Good As They Say It Is" is an energetic rocker - and can be enjoyed at that level. But look deeper, and it’s introducing the concept of lacking the ability to choose a different path.   

The next song, Escalator, is a warning or sorts: grab the moment. The protagonist fails to make a choice - he has one fleeting moment to act, and he does not do so. He is in a world that is starkly defined - there’s up and there’s down. But he is living in a grayer world, and he does not seize his opportunity. One fleeting glance…there ain’t no chance. He has a moment to pursue his objective and he lets it pass, and he will regret that decision for the rest of his life.

Unlike our heroine in the next song. Mona Lisa has MOST DEFINITELY made her choice. She’s had it with the world, she’s unperturbed, and she's OUT. Mona Lisa is breaking from the mold of the characters in the first four songs. She’s packed her bags, she’s leaving tonight. And she is happy at last, as she sees the world and spends time decompressing on a tropical island. The music is upbeat - she’s made her choice, and she is not looking back (I think this would have been a great live song, but that’s neither here nor there!).

The message is clear. One does NOT have to accept their fate. One can do more than cry in their latte. Take control; steer things in the direction you want to go. From two people who did exactly that at so many junctures in their lives, that’s a powerful lesson.

It might be easy to dismiss the next song, “You Were Meant for Me,” as a light-hearted throwaway. But note that over the course of the song, the protagonist rarely sings “you were meant for me,” as the title implies. He sings “you were meant for me tonight.” He is not looking for the love of his life; he is looking for a one-night hook up. Yet, he becomes ensnared (“you declared, it must be due to fate!”). If anything, one could assume that it’s the other party, who ensnares our protagonist, who is singing You Were Meant For Me, without the qualifier. And that’s the fascinating tension underlying the jaunty musical presentation. 

The protagonist bemoans throughout the song, “turn the pages, turn the pages, turn the pages, where does it all end”…throughout the song. In fact, the music stops and those lines are repeated (an interesting device repeated often on the album) so that you can’t really miss the meaning of the song if you wanted to. Against his initial instincts he chose not to walk away, but he profoundly regrets it. He is trapped.  

Side A (for those like me, who like albums) concludes with Not That Well Defined, an important song on the album. This is no doubt what Ron and Russell heard for years, by producers seeking to steer them in a certain direction, or AOR men who didn’t know how to market them, as they hopped from label to label, unable to find a home. For years, they have straddled the art and pop worlds, never committing to a style of music, however successful, for more than a few albums. To the average listener, to the record companies, they’ve never been that well defined.

This is Ron and Russell describing for us, directly and powerfully, the conundrum that they dealt with for decades. They were implored to make choices, and they did - they chose to follow their own North Star, wherever it led. 

There’s an additional, important point to add. Once again, the music stops and the last words are restated: I’m At a Loss.  At many times, they must have felt unsure of what to do. Two songs on Side B tell us how it played out - we’ll discuss that in a moment. 

The next song returns to a message presented lightheartedly in Nothing Is As Good As They Say It is - but there’s nothing light-hearted here. We Go Dancing is also about the absence of choice; but whereas the former song explored it on an individual level, from the baby’s perspective, here they are remarking upon bigger, more serious themes - totalitarianism and dictatorship. This is about a country where the people do not have a choice.  Are Ron and Russell warning us to exercise our freedom and choose wisely - at the risk of seeing our entire society degenerate? We should be listening. 

When You Leave - well, if this isn’t overtly about choice, I don’t know what is. It needs to be said, this song is funny as hell. It’s great to see some humor on the album now and then, and this is exhibit A.  But let me give you a thought - isn’t this song a bridge between Not That Well Defined, and It Doesn’t Have To Be That Way? To my ears it is indeed. The three songs are not presented one after another, but they are presented in order. 

The brothers were told that they weren’t well defined. They were at a loss of what to do about it. This song tells us what they decided to do about it. They stayed.  That is the choice they made. They chose to stay, even if sometimes alienating to those around them. That’s monumental. 

And as we’ll discuss in a moment, It Doesn’t Have to be That Way is the lesson they want to impart from their experience. And it’s a positive one. 

But we’re not quite there yet. They have more to say about choice, and its consequences. Take Me For A Ride is a personal favorite. I enjoyed it tremendously the first few times I heard it. I’m a big film noir fan, and this song sounded like a film noir movie put to music. 

But then I heard the payoff - and the song took on an elevated meaning to me. Two ordinary people, clearly in need of something to keep them engaged, inject a little fantasy into their lives. They make a choice - and it saves their marriage. Was it a good choice? A bad one? I’ll leave that for others to decide. But it was a choice - and that’s what the song is all about. Sometimes a choice can be an expression of individuality. Sometimes in life, you have to compromise. Maybe…that’s ok. I’d add, perhaps we’re catching up with the couple introduced in You Were Meant For Me? Can’t help but think there's connectivity. But that’s another analysis.

Next up: It’s Sunny Today. I’ve been in many discussions about this song. Some hear it as conveying satisfaction, or comfort…the words might convey that. But the music - to me - is downcast; almost hopelessly sad. To my ears, the music and the lyrics are out of sync. 

In the context of this framework, there are a number of ways that I can look at this. I don’t know which is right - I don’t know if any are. But here are a few possibilities: 

1. The protagonist has chosen an inconsequential life driving around and going to the beach with his friends. But as the music conveys, he realizes he may have thrown his life away. He made wrong choices.

2. He may not have made that realization, but the music conveys that while the protagonist thinks he’s had a great life, he’s actually missed quite a bit. He made poor choices.

3. The song has much deeper meaning, and is only superficially about the beach at all. It sounds so funereal feel to me. But perhaps this is a bridge too far.

4. I’m all wrong. It’s a happy little tune about how wonderful it is when the sun comes out. I should stop reading so much into it.

5. I have no idea. But it’s a cool song. 

What I do know is this: there’s a mystery there, some point being made. Perhaps the choice is starkly transmitted simply by the two extremes of the music and the vocals. I think that’s a real possibility. But it’s hard for me not to be compelled by what I hear here. 

But let’s move on to A Love Story. On the surface, a pretty straightforward and funny song about an insecure guy who makes a sordid choice just to keep his girl. But there’s more to it than that. Is he the addict, and the whole story about the girl a fabrication? Why does Russell resort to that change in voice on a few verses - almost always when the protagonist seems to be talking to the girl, vice talking to the guy in line? Why does Russell take subtle breaths every time he sings “it’s her thing (breath)...not my thing (breath)?” He doesn’t do it anywhere else on the album (or throughout his career as far as I can recall), so it’s a conscious choice. What’s motivating it? 

If there’s more depth to the song that what hears on the surface, then perhaps the point being made has more depth as well. Perhaps the point is that we need to look more deeply at what motivates people, and why they make the choices that they do. Let’s not, in fact, judge people on the choices they do or do not make. Maybe there’s no choice at all - however much on the surface it seems to be a song about exactly that. Maybe we all need to look a little deeper. 

I can see Ron looking at the world with dissatisfaction. I can also see him really, really wanting to make the above point. He knows the world is a complex, and sometimes terrifying, place. 

It Doesn’t Have To Be That Way...another concert standout. It’s clear they wanted their audience to hear the message here, and it’s loud and clear. They were chastised for not being well defined; they chose to stay; and they are glad that they did. They did it their way. Looking back after fifty years, they don’t regret the choices they made. And that’s the lesson - don’t let others define you. Be yourself. Make the choices that will determine your life - and live it. It’s a lesson for that girl crying in her latte, and all of us. A perfect, upbeat ending to the album. 

But this is Sparks. The album doesn’t end on a barn-burner, or a rousing and uplifting message. Rather, the album ends with the low-key, fiercely penetrating, Gee That Was Fun. To be sure, she song itself fits this paradigm, as the protagonist looks back at choices they could have made but didn’t. But even as the song’s lyrics look back, I believe the song is looking ahead.

Ron and Russel are perhaps hinting at what may be a new choice - they’re preparing us for something. Time to retire, perhaps, and enjoy the beautiful hills of Pacific Palisades in their senior years? If that’s their choice, they’ve earned it - they are more than entitled to it. 

I think there’s another meaning. Perhaps they are telling us that this phase of their career - four albums in short order (counting FFS), working with a band and continuously touring - may be coming to an end. Or perhaps it’s a transition in the type of music - entirely possible. Whatever it is though, I think they’re telling us that change is coming. I just don’t think they’re ready to quit.

As an album heavy on retrospection and possibly signaling a transition, the album is PERFECT. I may not have gotten everything right - I probably didn’t. I may be reading too much into their music - I probably did. But to me, this is what I think the album is about - choice and its consequences, past, present, and future - and it explains why I hold this album in such high regard. It’s perfect, it’s a transition, and it may well be a capstone. 

I may be all wrong. They may very well be at their studio recording new material right now, and planning their next tour. I’ll be among the first to buy tickets.