Twenty years ago, Gordon Matthew Sumner, known as Sting, decided to embark on a mission "of diplomacy, leaving the Police at home". So sang Antonello Venditti, one of the least qualified to criticize the choices of others, considering what his have produced. However, the jab was well-aimed, and especially the term "diplomacy" was spot on. From this first work, Sting has continuously sought a compromise between his noble passions (jazz and classical) and the taste of the broadest possible audience, with true balancing acts worthy of a diplomat, to satisfy the market without compromising too much, something he fully achieved in this first album, unlike in the subsequent ones, with the exception of the dark and reflective "The Soul Cages".
Sting has never been loved by critics: his elegance and his tendency to smooth the rough edges clash with the "aesthetic of ugliness" followed by many critics, who prefer annoying but spontaneous noises to pleasant but fabricated music. Even as a character, he has done little to be likable: his boasts of 5 - 7 hour erotic performances are legendary (who cares?), less known is his comparison to Beethoven due to a hearing problem.
All this, however, should not influence the judgment on "The Dream Of The Blue Turtles", divinely played together with musicians like Brandford Marsalis (sax), Kenny Kirkland (keyboards), Darryl Jones (bass: but wasn't Sting a bassist?), and Omar Hakim (drums). A very varied album, an inevitable quality to meet the favor of multiple audience types.
For those with simple tastes, two chart-topping hits: a powerful and rhythmic rock, "If You Love Somebody, Set Them Free", and a trivial reggae-tune for the beach like "Love Is The Seventh Wave".
For classical music lovers and melomaniacs, here’s some good Prokofiev in the tear-jerking theme of "Russians", and here credit must be given to the honest Sting for declaring the classical source in the notes, something that very few do (for example, Santana stretches an entire piece using Brahms' Third without bothering to credit him). We stay in Prokofiev territory with "Children's Crusade", influenced by the nightmare atmosphere of the Russian composer's Second Piano Concerto, but without borrowed themes. The splendid jazz crescendo placed halfway through the piece, with Marsalis dazzling, is worth mentioning.
Nostalgic for the Police? For you, there’s a sped-up and frenetic version of "Shadows In The Rain", which, thanks to Kirkland's keyboard bursts and Marsalis' screaming sax, manages to overshadow the original. A little effort? Why not, from someone who sings for the Amazon (and for money), we expect it. So here we are, in the bowels of the earth, sharing the harsh life of English mines thanks to a sinister limping reggae, "We Work The Black Seam". Then, since we have some fine jazz musicians at our disposal, it's wise to make use of them a bit, and nothing is more chic than associating Shakespeare's verses with rich jazz like "Consider Me Gone", making peace with critics. A bit of healthy jazz improvisation? Alright, but only a minute, otherwise the record might sell a little less: voilà "The Dream Of The Blue Turtles".
Musical and crooner fans: dive into "Moon Over Bourbon Street", with Sting in werewolf mode, capable of recreating Gershwin-like atmospheres without even pillaging Gershwin, something postponed to the next record ("Sister Moon"). Lastly, another look back at the Police: "Fortress Around Your Heart" wouldn't have looked out of place on the second side of "Synchronicity", the totally Stingan side. Yet, you try to describe it with irony, but this sycophantic record, made to please everyone, is still very enjoyable to listen to after 20 years. There must be a reason: perhaps the class, which (they say) is not just water.
Tracklist Lyrics Samples and Videos
01 If You Love Somebody Set Them Free (04:16)
Free, free, set them free
Free, free, set them free
Free, free, set them free
If you need somebody
Call my name
If you want someone
You can do the same
If you want to keep something precious
You got to lock it up and throw away the key
If you want to hold onto your possession
Don't even think about me
If you love somebody
If you love someone
If you love somebody
If you love someone, set them free
Set them free
Set them free
Set them free
If it's a mirror you want
Just look into my eyes
Or a whipping boy
Someone to despise
Or a prisoner in the dark
Tied up in chains you just can't see
Or a beast in a gilded cage
That's all some people ever want to be
If you love somebody
If you love someone
If you love somebody
If you love someone, set them free
Set them free
Set them free
Set them free
You can't control an independent heart
Can't tear the one you love apart
Forever conditioned to believe that we can't live
We can't live here and be happy with less
So many riches
So many souls
With everything we see that we want to possess
If you need somebody
Call my name
If you want someone
You can do the same
If you want to keep something precious
You got to lock it up and throw away the key
You want to hold onto your possession
Don't even think about me
If you love somebody
If you love someone
If you love somebody
If you love someone, set them free
Set them free
Set them free
Set them free
Set them free
03 Russians (03:58)
In Europe and America
There's a growing feeling of hysteria
Conditioned to respond to all the threats
In the rhetorical speeches of the Soviets
Mister Kruschev said, "We will bury you"
I don't subscribe to this point of view
It'd be such an ignorant thing to do
If the Russians love their children too
How can I save my little boy
From Oppenheimer's deadly toy?
There is no monopoly of common sense
On either side of the political fence
We share the same biology
Regardless of ideology
Believe me when I say to you
I hope the Russians love their children too
There is no historical precedent
To put the words in the mouth of the president?
There's no such thing as a winnable war,
It's a lie we don't believe anymore
Mister Reagan says; "We will protect you"
I don't subscribe to this point of view
Believe me when I say to you
I hope the Russians love their children too
We share the same biology
Regardless of ideology
What might save us, me and you,
Is if the Russians love their children too
04 Children's Crusade (05:01)
Young men, soldiers, nineteen fourteen
Marching through countries they'd never seen
Virgins with rifles, a game of charades
All for a children's crusade
Pawns in the game are not victims of chance
Strewn on the fields of Belgium and France
Poppies for young men, death's bitter trade
All of those young lives betrayed
The children of England would never be slaves
They're trapped on the wire and dying in waves
The flower of England face down in the mud
And stained the blood of a whole generation
Corpulent generals safe behind lines
History's lessons drowned in red wine
Poppies for young men, death's bitter trade
All of those young lives betrayed
All for a children's crusade
The children of England would never be slaves
They're trapped on the wire and dying in waves
The flower of England face down in the mud
And stained the blood of a whole generation
Midnight in Soho nineteen eighty four
Fixing in doorways, opium slaves
Poppies for young men, death's bitter trade
All of those young lives betrayed
All for a children's crusade
06 We Work the Black Seam (05:42)
This place has changed for good
Your economic theory said it would
It's hard for us to understand
We can't give up our jobs the way we should
Our blood has stained the coal
We tunnelled inside the nation's soul
We matter more than pounds and pence
Your economic theory makes no sense
One day in a nuclear age
They may understand our rage
They build machines that they can't control
And bury the waste in a great big hole
Power was to become cheap and clean
Grimy faces were never seen
But deadly for twelve thousand years is
carbon fourteen
We work the black seam together
The seam lies underground
Three million years of pressure packed it down
We walk through ancient forest lands
And light a thousand cities with our hands
Your dark satanic mills
Have made redundant all our mining skills
You can't exchange a six inch band
For all the poison streams in Cumberland
One day in a nuclear age
They may understand our rage
They build machines that they can't control
And bury the waste in a great big hole
Power was to become cheap and clean
Grimy faces were never seen
But deadly for twelve thousand years is
carbon fourteen
We work the black seam together
Our concious lives run deep
You cling onto your mountain while we sleep
This way of life is part of me
There is no price so only let me be
And should the children weep
The turning world will sing their souls to sleep
When you have sunk without a trace
The universe will suck me into place
One day in a nuclear age
They may understand our rage
They build machines that they can't control
And bury the waste in a great big hole
Power was to become cheap and clean
Grimy faces were never seen
But deadly for twelve thousand years is
carbon fourteen
We work the black seam together
09 Moon Over Bourbon Street (04:01)
There's a moon over Bourbon Street tonight
I see faces as they pass beneath the pale lamplight
I've no choice but to follow that call
The bright lights, the people, and the moon and all
I pray everyday to be strong
For I know what I do must be wrong
Oh you'll never see my shade or hear the sound of my feet
While there's a moon over Bourbon Street
It was many years ago that I became what I am
I was trapped in this life like an innocent lamb
Now I can never show my face at noon
And you'll only see me walking by the light of the moon
The brim of my hat hides the eye of a beast
I've the face of a sinner but the hands of a priest
Oh you'll never see my shade or hear the sound of my feet
While there's a moon over Bourbon Street
She walks everyday through the streets of New Orleans
She's innocent and young from a family of means
I have stood many times outside her window at night
To struggle with my instinct in the pale moonlight
How could I be this way when I pray to God above
I must love what I destroy and destroy the thing I love
Oh you'll never see my shade or hear the sound of my feet
While there's a moon over Bourbon Street
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Other reviews
By primiballi
Sting understood that things are born, develop, and end.
Creating an album both light and intellectual. Easy and difficult. Of immediate enjoyment as well as long chewed.
By claudio carpentieri
The album can be seen as a successful combination of styles that draws from the past but is oriented towards the future in an attempt to merge the two musical cultures at its core: white and black.
Sting’s unstoppable artistic pursuit has always led him to investigate new things, consistently confirming the validity of his musical intuition.