The Police
Ghost In The Machine

It certainly cannot be said that The Police were one of those bands that underwent an interminable gestation period before giving birth to a new album. "Ghost In The Machine" was released on the market in October 1981, completing another fiery tour that began during the summer of 1980 with the Superbowl of Milton Keynes (UK) and ended on the other side of the globe only at the end of the following February at the Entertainment Centre in Perth. This latest chapter in the band's history reminds us that the "three" owe a lot to that atmosphere of musical novelty that has accompanied them since the beginning, giving them the incredible chance to create a sound world distinguished for being instinctive and direct, like the pure and unmediated attitude.

The album title is taken directly from a book by Arthur Koestler, in which the theory is affirmed that the self-destructive tendencies of human beings can be mitigated with the help of chemical supplements that act on their more irrational and violent parts. This record is a means through which Sting describes himself by depicting his persona, showing even more than in the past a particular care for the autobiographically flavored lyrics.

A hint of a roll kicks off "Spirits In the Material World" with an introduction of a semi-dance in ternary rhythm, whose almost constant pace pairs well with the choral singing of Sting, certainly renewed compared to previous works, creating a piece that is the perfect synthesis of rhythms and sounds that will pilot the new British invasion that would follow shortly. "Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic" - which was released simultaneously as a single -, well represents the new (temporary!?) musical identity of the trio, converging in four minutes an initial delicate melody on a soft synth carpet in which the piano accompaniment leads straight to one of the album's catchiest refrains without ever descending into banality, despite the "ioooooo" at the end almost as if wanting to represent the omnipresence of the trademark. Despite a now-established certainty, I feel compelled to emphasize that the release of GITM was preceded by a few weeks by "Invisible Sun", where a dark keyboard carpet and a shadowy rhythm are the elements that best suit to address the difficult theme of the eternal British/Irish dispute, which would serve the group to shoot the most austere clip of their entire videography. This album marks a real departure from the reggae of their beginnings, aiming straight at catchy pop, which finds in the modern simplicity of "Too Much Information" - which tackles the theme of the computer age of the 80s ("too much information running through my brain, too much information driving me insane") and in the psychotic "Demolition Man" where the brass section reinforces the sound directives given by the throbbing bass well-directed by a Summer in great shape, which well suits the harsh lyrics that leave little to the imagination ("I'm a walking nightmare, an arsenal of doom I kill conversation as I walk into the room"). The pleasant chord progression of "Hungry For You" is not at all compensated by Sting's singing in French, which discreetly regains credit in interpreting the relentless "Rehumanize Yourself", castigated in my opinion by perhaps too noisy sax presence.
Apart from the opening tracks, the one that will surely see great audience involvement in live shows is titled "One World (Not Three)", which not only has lyrics that could prompt reflection today regarding the countries where a piece of bread can still represent a luxury for many ("The third world breathes our air tomorrow we live on the time we borrow In our world there's no time for sorrow in their world there is no tomorrow"), but also boasts a clever and brilliant chorus to which one cannot help but sing along. Summers's compositional contribution is represented by "Omegaman", where the group's energy is best expressed, acting as the perfect ingredient to a text with dark tones, addressing the theme of the personification of a modern Superman busy with everyday problems ("The night came down, jungle sounds were in my ears city screams are all I've heard in twenty years"). Copeland's pen is expressed in the feeble and paced atmosphere of "Darkness" (which I personally consider the proper follow-up to the dreamlike "Secret Journey"), where the ease of dreaming from a comfortable chair is affirmed as much as the difficulty in realizing one's purposes once the awareness of having one's feet on the ground is reached.

An album that, even if it may not have fully met the expectations of the die-hard fans, remains without a doubt a milestone for the sound achieved, as well as the most concrete manifestation of the courage of the three in having risked their reputation, daring, with an album whose sounds, while winking at greater commerciality (which is not always synonymous with "selling out"), never risks being perceived as a product with no end in itself.