Sparks: possibly the most German-sounding American band in history (unless you count post-techno millennials who moved to Berlin and bought drum machines, and honestly, you shouldn’t). As the two brothers, Russell and Ron Mael, respectively 76 (!) and 79 (!!), and their band of four step onto the stage in Hammersmith, the speakers belt out the last bars of John Adams’ ‘Short Ride In A Fast Machine’, which is about as highbrow and theatrical and American an intro as you could reasonably expect from a pop gig. Surrounded in a golden LED haze, the band then launch into ‘So May We Start’ from Leos Carax’s musical Annette; another highbrow detour, and one of many cultural resurgences in their long, illustrious career that has somehow never remained stuck in the past.

It’s a well-balanced show, with flashy, angular tunes such as their seminal 70s hit ‘This Town Ain’t Big Enough For Both Of Us’ interspersed with more melancholic songs like the dreamy ‘Please Don’t Fuck Up My World’. The evening soars in moments when Ron leaves his keyboard to sing ‘Suburban Homeboy’, alone on stage like a schoolboy at assembly. Later, during a musical break in ‘The Number One Song In Heaven’, Ron is up again to perform a running man shuffle, much to the crowd’s delight.

When they lean into this theatricality, the duo are marvellous. Without it, the pithiness can wear thin. Russell’s sprechgesang, pastiche-heavy delivery sometimes flattens into sameness (though others would call it an acquired taste). It’s also a shame the band playing behind the brothers isn’t drawn more into the action. But to their credit, it’s all in service of the fans: the connection between the Maels and their enraptured crowd is, at times, so electric you’d forgive them for never looking back.

Sparks, Edinburgh Playhouse, Friday 18 July; The Halls, Wolverhampton, Saturday 19 July; reviewed at Eventim Apollo, London; picture: Andy Sturmey.