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Rating:
There’s nothing to be done.
Most people, once they pass the age of 50, start taking themselves terribly seriously, falling prey to delusions of grandeur or mystical/transcendental crises that, more often than not, make them lose their minds and reason.
No political reference, eh?
The 2006 experiment “Songs from the Labyrinth” should have made our ex-Police reflect on the quality of the outcomes (beyond the praiseworthy intentions) but evidently, the sting has lost the bee but not the habit (well, it doesn’t exactly go like that but you get the idea…).
This “If On A Winter’s Night” (available at the end of October on CD but already listenable by download) cites our beloved Italo Calvino but beyond this cultured reference, I’ll say right away that it’s an album mostly dull and tired.
In some way, it’s the logical continuation of the already verbose previous album, where late baroque atmospheres here give way to 11 compositions that are revisions of classic Irish and British pieces plus 4 new compositions, by Sting himself, which slightly revitalize this really boring, pretentious and embarrassing soporific magma (watch the video of the single here).
Sting’s voice is always beautiful, and with age, it acquires color and interesting nuances, but the real problem, in my opinion, is the monotony of the acoustic compositions (harpsichords, unicorns, mandolin guitars, lutes and their kin are overused) and the voice not quite suitable for this kind of thing.
An album therefore introspective and wintery (the cover says it all) with pieces that are interesting both in terms of phrasing and for the freedom they give to Sting’s voice to play in a thousand embroideries (even if his tone ultimately appears monotonic and not very expressive, although he does his utmost to give it his all!).
An album however, that despite the technical and musical contribution of Robert Sadin, Dominic Miller (always him!) and Kathryn Tickell and the relaxed climate of recordings made at his luxurious Tuscan estate, it is honestly hard to listen to in its entirety and by the fifth track you feel like closing it all up and dedicating yourself to the Art of Bonsai, reading Castaneda or any other silly activity surely more constructive and relaxing.
An album that seems like the swan song of a bored old English Lord wishing to give himself an air, almost renouncing what until yesterday was his natural habitat (rock music) to forcibly be a snob, flaunting pretentious and virtuous stylistic exercises, but which ultimately do not reach the soul of the listener and become just a “beautiful golden toy” of technique and style for its own sake.
There’s nothing to be done.
When an over-rich and bored ex-rockstar doesn’t know what to do to waste time and play, he should have the decency to do something else instead of fooling the fans who have followed him so far: like dedicating himself to wine production or import-export of extra virgin olive oil.
It is rumored, in fact, that the oil and wine from the "Sting Estate" are of excellent quality.
Ah… if on a winter’s night... Sting had pressed (cold) his artistic vein better, we would be talking about something better than this insipid little record that will be forgotten in less than 6 months.
Want to bet?
Tracklist Lyrics and Videos
10 The Hounds of Winter (05:51)
Mercury falling
I rise from my bed
Collect my thoughts together
I have to hold my head
It seems that she's gone
And somehow I am pinned by
The Hounds of Winter
Howling in the wind
I walk through the day
My coat around my ears
I look for my companion
I have to dry my tears
It seems that she's gone
Leaving me too soon
I'm as dark as December
I'm as cold as the Man in the Moon
I still see her face
As beautiful as day
It's easy to remember
Remember my love that way
All I hear is that lonesome sound
The Hounds of Winter
They follow me down
I can't make up the fire
The way that she could
I spend all my days
In the search for dry wood
Board all the windows and close the front door
I can't believe she won't be here anymore
I still see her face
As beautiful as day
It's easy to remember
Remember my love that way
All I hear is that lonesome sound
The Hounds of Winter
They follow me down
A season for joy
A season for sorrow
Where she's gone
I will surely, surely follow
She brightened my day
She warmed the coldest night
The Hounds of Winter
They got me in their sights
I still see her face
As beautiful as day
It's easy to remember
Remember my love that way
All I hear is that lonesome, lonesome sound
The Hounds of Winter
They harry me down
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By primiballi
This time I put on the album for the first time and... Bang!... Naptime.
Sting’s voice is beautiful when it’s natural, quite unbearable when he tries to be 'classically' trained.
