Sting
Bring On The Night

THE REVIEW

When I was small, about eight to ten years old, my favorite pastime was playing the drums. I would gather all my mother's aluminum pots and lids on the floor, two wooden spoons as drumsticks, 45 rpm of "Roxanne" on the turntable, Copeland as my teacher. For me, Sting was an accessory, I didn't even know his nickname; he was just someone who sang in the drummer's band of the Police.

In '85, when there was no trace left of the Police, while watching Dj Television, I stumbled upon this guy with leggings, black glasses, a guitar slung over his shoulder, four or five black musicians playing around him, the name Sting, singing "If you love somebody". That little voice reminded me of something, but I immediately categorized him as just another fool among the many Duran Duran, Whitney Houston, and various other singers.
Until one day I discovered from Linus that this ridiculous guy was none other than the one who sunk my favorite band and thus took away Copeland's job. Damn it, and this bastard still has the nerve to show his face?

My resentment towards "him" grew exponentially with his success. Until one day, around 16 years old, I decided to give him a chance by purchasing his first album and the live album. With utmost skepticism, I played the latter, since the dream of the blue turtles (what the hell of a title) was known to me indirectly, the Russians, who, if they're like us, shouldn't bomb us, love is the seventh wave and all the rest, with that touch of jazz underneath that annoyed me infinitely and that drummer, Hakim I think, described by Sting himself as one of the best around. Damn, I thought, then Copeland is dead, because only if he's dead could you say such a heavy nonsense and think you can get away with it. How, damn it, your vile songs without Copeland's drumming wouldn't have been the same, did you get that, you scoundrel? Copeland taught you to insert bass notes in Outlandos songs to make them "reggae," you didn't understand a damn thing. The "Police style" of "Reggatta," inimitable even by the Police themselves, is Copeland-Summers. The dregs of Zenyatta are all yours. Just to put you back in your place, those two would have made even the awful songs of the Pooh immortal. No doubts about it.

Let's go back to the album, or rather no, now I've got the black bile again. Useless album, if you want to listen to Police songs live, buy the Police live albums (besides, his habit of distorting them live has always pissed me off, there's not a "Message in a bottle" or a "Truth hits everybody" sung the same as the original, he enjoys twisting them and you, having paid good money, have to applaud him); the others, taken from the blue turtles, are irredeemably outdated, old and rhetorical they were then, old and rhetorical they've remained. "Through the barricades" is more current.
Seriously, raise your hand if you still listen to "Russians", "Consider me gone", "Fortress around your heart" without feeling at least discomfort and many, many shivers. Of disgust. If you're in the car and they play "Love is the 7th wave" on the radio, turn it off immediately, change the station, pull over, falling asleep is the least that could happen to you.