The Sparks?ro;”the band you forgot to love.

The good news is that nobody laughs any more when you announce that you're going to interview Sparks. The bad news?at least, for brothers Ron and Russell Mael?is that now most people have never heard of their band. That's an impressive amount of anonymity for an act that's been around since 1970, recording more than 18 albums for at least 12 different labels.

Sparks spent that time cramming several careers into an unexpectedly long existence. They began as an artsy post-hippie pop act, before heading to London to become glam-rock stars during the mid-70s. Then they hooked up with Giorgio Moroder for an abrupt transition into Eurodisco in 1979. This nicely set up the band's new wave years, with some actual American success thanks to albums like Angst in My Pants and In Outer Space.

That last one even provided a genuine minor hit for Sparks, with Russell dueting with Go-Go Jane Wiedlin on "Cool Places." Then the band floundered between genres before techno gave them a new foothold in the 90s market. It was certainly a relief when the Maels showed up for the new century with a surprisingly solid collection of pop tunes on Balls.

Throughout all this, their only constant has been inventive melodies and bizarre lyrics that resolutely avoided rock cliches. Sadly, this combination has kept Sparks on the peripheral of rock legends, with the brothers often dismissed as a novelty act.

So it's certainly nice to see Sparks suddenly becoming the most important band in modern rock. That's courtesy of Lil' Beethoven, an amazing new collection in which Sparks essentially invents dance music without beats. In fact, the album's lead track?and first single?is a bold manifesto called "The Rhythm Thief."

But, again, a lot of people?including music critics and editors?have never heard of these guys.

That's perfectly okay with Ron, the Mael best known for spending the 70s and 80s as the Songwriting One with The Hitler Mustache (and is now just the Songwriting One with the Thin Mustache and the Creepy Smile). "We were at the point," he says, "where we even considered calling the whole project Lil' Beethoven, and not even include Sparks in the name. We didn't want anyone to be prejudiced against the music. People could always do research to find out who we are. That mattered less than what the album meant musically."

The UK critics agree, with Lil' Beethoven being celebrated on the level of Radiohead and many people referring to the album as the band's Pet Sounds. More impressively, it's a true Sparks album. Their grand vision remains built on sharp lyrical insights like "What Are All These Bands So Angry About?" and "Your Call's Very Important to Us. Please Hold."

Simply on the basis of reviews, Lil' Beethoven counts as a proper comeback. This is no small feat to Russell, who's spent his own career as the Cute One with the Irritating High Voice: "This whole business of comebacks keeps getting harder and harder. We don't want to reinvent ourselves again after this. We're sold on the direction of Lil' Beethoven. Hopefully, there's not going to be any reason for a sixth?or whatever it is now?comeback."

This is also a very serious time for Sparks, who've spent past interviews trying to convince people that they collect frozen pizzas. Ron is happy to finally get past some of the clowning: "We've been humbled by other people's attitudes about how we're doing. Every time you finish an album, you think it's the greatest thing ever, and then, over time, you gain some perspective in the context of pop music. This one, we feel differently about."

"Ron had a complete album of songs written that we scrapped," adds Russell. "The 'where did the groove go?' sentiment in 'The Rhythm Thief' actually speaks about our feelings in several contexts. Pop music has just reached the point where it's very predictable. It's always an updated version of fill-in-the-blank. We think there are other ways to challenge and provoke musically, instead of through a band photo."

This is also the album that returns Sparks to a major label in the U.S. Lil' Beethoven was released overseas last year as a Universal imprint. That's typical, given Sparks' massive success in markets like France. But the album's U.S. release on the Palm label is a real tribute to magnate Chris Blackwell, who first made bucks off Sparks with his old Island empire back in 1974.

"Chris still has a sense of adventure," says Russell, "to the point of saying that he thought the first single should be 'The Rhythm Thief' instead of a song with novelty potential like 'Suburban Homeboy.' The whole state of affairs in the music industry is really terrible, so it's great to work with someone with musical scruples."

"It's also really satisfying," adds Ron, "that the album we feel is our most challenging is also the first album in a long time to have strong American backing. It'll be interesting to see what happens, given the general conservative climate in our culture."

Maybe there'll even be some residual name recognition out there. After all, no less than Sir Paul McCartney once dressed himself up as Ron Mael in his "Coming Up" video. More recently, Don Fleming filled in for Thurston Moore at a recent tribute to the 70s version of Sparks at the Bottom Line, where he sported Ron's mustache while knocking out "This Town Ain't Big Enough for Both of Us" with Jim O'Rourke.

"For better or worse," says Ron, "I guess I'm the easier one to impersonate. We constantly get both guys and girls at our shows who try to adopt my look. In London, there was an eight-year-old French kid with blonde hair whose father decided he needed to be made up like me."

The thoughts are strictly positive in promoting Lil' Beethoven, with Sparks actually going out on the road again?including a rare New York City appearance on August 3 at Central Park's SummerStage. "It'll be at night," stresses Russell. "We lobbied hard for darkness. I think the last time we played New York was with Rick Springfield, out at Jones Beach back in the 80s. That wasn't even really our show. Rick was just doing a good turn for us. 'Cool Places' was getting airplay, and he lobbied for us because he was a fan going back to our first album."

Any similar American success will also mark Sparks' first exposure to recent celebrity culture?although it's not likely that Russell will show up dating Gwyneth Paltrow. Sparks have actually managed to avoid any kind of scrutiny over the decades. It's a unique position for two weirdos whose unlikely existence sums up rock excess worthy of Gene Simmons. Most people just assume the Maels live together in a large Beverly Hills mansion, occasionally venturing past their gates to pick up attractive female French tourists.

"Those first two assumptions," notes Ron, "are completely wrong."

"The last part sounds good," says Russell, "but the real reason we have a 30-year existence is because we channel all of our energy back into what we're doing musically. Maybe it sounds boring, but it's our passion. We'd rather spend our time being creative than driving up and down Sunset Strip in a nice car."

"Russell does have a nice car," adds Ron.

"I drive a '56 T-Bird," Russell confirms. "I guarantee that's a much cooler car than whatever Gene Simmons is driving."

As short-lived kings of glam, disco and new wave, nobody could blame the Maels for not having much interest in the present. However, Sparks hasn't reached their new viability by ignoring the scene around them.

"We're totally aware of what's going on," says Russell. "We buy albums to see what's happening. But there isn't really a scene to check out."

"We'd like to be influenced by other things," admits Ron, "but it's hard to find things to even rip off now. Los Angeles is a pleasant place to be, but it would be a bad fate to be here permanently."

Abroad, they're rock legends, but the reception's a little less loving in L.A. "We get the occasional power-pop guy coming up to us when we do wander out," says Russell. "Or some guy in a skinny tie. There have always been a few brave souls like the Ramones who always let people know that they were fans. We're doing something now with Orbital."

They've also had their share of soundtrack work. Or attempts at soundtrack work. Sparks was very excited to record music for the 1998 Jean Claude Van Damme film Knock Off, directed by Tsui Hark (who had earlier been the subject of a Sparks tribute song). An actual soundtrack album was never released.

And there's the sad story of Mai, the Psychic Girl, the project that almost convinced the world that Sparks had given up the fight. "We devoted over five years to Mai, The Psychic Girl," explains Russell. "Tim Burton had signed on to direct, and from there, the project took various paths?none of which ended up being good paths, as far as ever getting the movie ever made. We dedicated our life to that film."

In the midst of Lil' Beethoven's acclaim, there's even renewed hope for Mai eventually being produced. Meanwhile, most Sparks fans thought theatrical breakthrough would come courtesy of the old catalogue?maybe a French musical production on the level of what Mama Mia did for ABBA.

"Here's hoping," says a fearless Ron. But for now, Sparks is in a far better position than anyone imagined. After years of being maligned and dismissed, you'd expect the Brothers Mael to at least be reveling in some genuine smugness.

"We have stretches of smugness," says Ron, "but then a phone call comes in and shatters all that. But then the smugness comes back the next day."

"Oh, we've always been feeling smug," counters Russell. "With or without good records."