Tag Archives: Sting

Rocks In The Attic #693: John Barry – ‘A View To A Kill (O.S.T.)’ (1985)

RITA#693.jpgJames Bond, 007, British Secret Service, licensed to kill, fifty-seven years old.

Roger Moore is so old in this, his seventh and final outing as James Bond, that he was only prompted to give up the role due to an off-screen discussion with Bond girl Tanya Roberts. Moore discovered that he was the same age as the actress’ mother, and so finally realised that it was time to hang up his tuxedo for good. It’s was fortunate he did, as things were starting to get a little creepy. Before Bond finally seduces Stacy Sutton in the – ahem – climax of this film, he tucks her into bed during the film’s bloated second act. Ugh.

By the time of this, the fourteenth official Bond film, it had become very hard to take 007 seriously. Not only do we see Bond parading around with a girl old enough to be his daughter, but the writers take the character further and further away from Ian Fleming’s original secret agent. Prior to Bond tucking Sutton into bed, he bakes her a quiche. I swear I’m not making this up.

Christopher Walken does a nice turn as the villainous Max Zorin – a role originally turned down by both David Bowie and Sting. It’s actually a shame that Walken took the role, as it looks like the producers were offering it to every 1980s British rock star. Personally, I would have liked to see Phil Collins or Peter Gabriel battle Bond for world domination. Sledgehammer, in particular, would have made a great Bond theme – and a great film title.

Hit: A View To A Kill – Duran Duran

Hidden Gem: Snow Job

RITA#693a

Rocks In The Attic #510: The Police – ‘Zenyatta Mondatta’ (1980)

RITA#510Album number three finds the Police starting to repeat themselves after the white heat of Regatta de Blanc. The big chart-slaying singles are still there, represented here by Don’t Stand So Close To Me and De Do Do Do, De Da Da Da, but the title of that second single betrays a lack of innovation throughout the record.

It’s all perfectly honed, finely crafted pop music, but there’s something missing. The artistic leap between debut album Outlandos d’Amour and their sophomore record seems a thing of the past, and here they seem to churn out more of the same rather than exploring new ideas.

I recently saw the Andy Summers documentary Can’t Stand Losing You: Surviving The Police (2012). It wasn’t anything I hadn’t seen before, being a fairly history of the band intercut with their reunion shows in 2007-2008, and narrated by Summers reading from his awesome 2006 One Train Later biography, but it was entertaining enough.

The film spends a bit of time explaining how the band were really under pressure to record this album in a short period of time, and you can hear it, particularly in the album’s tired last couple of songs.

The recording sessions would also mark the first time that cracks would appear in the edifice of the band – Sting refused to play on Summers’ instrumental Behind My Camel, and even resorted to burying the tapes of the song in the garden of the recording studio in Holland. Summers had the last laugh of course, when the song went on to win the Best Rock Instrumental at the Grammy’s the following year.

I love many of Sting’s Police lyrics, but Don’t Stand So Close To Me features one of my favourites. It’s rare that a pop song will name-check a literary classic, but Sting drops a mention of Vladimir Nabokov’s Lolita in the final verse – one of my favourite novels.

Hit: Don’t Stand So Close To Me

Hidden Gem: Voices In My Head

Rocks In The Attic #343: The Police – ‘Regatta de Blanc’ (1979)

RITA#343Good old white reggae, as the album title tries to tell us. I love the Police, but as much as I love the first album, it’s this album where they’re untouchable – one step closer to being the biggest band in the world. There’s an air of effortlessness about it all. For most bands, a song like Regatta de Blanc would be a demo recording, just a scrap of an idea – mostly instrumental with some indication of where the lyrics might go. In the Police’s hands, it’s turned into a fully realised song; one that would go on to win them a Grammy, no less.

There’s a great edition of Rock Goes To College, showing the band touring their first album in the UK. Their set is notable for including the first live performance of Message In A Bottle, before anybody in the audience had heard it – a standout, if not just for the fact that it’s my favourite Police song. Bloody hard to play on the guitar, impossible to sing in Sting’s vocal range, I love its final image of a solitary castaway – alone, but with a hundred billion other castaways.

Unfortunately there are hints of things to come on Regatta de Blanc too. Bring On The Night sounds like Sting making his first tentative steps towards his coffee-shop world music future. There’s traces of it on The Bed’s Too Big Without You too – middle-class poetry, all red wine and dinner parties. If I strain my ears, I can almost hear the yuppy conversations over some third-world cuisine.

On a lighter note, I’ve just done a frantic, white reggae dance to closing song No Time This Time for my one-year old. She thought it was the funniest thing in the world.

Hit: Message In A Bottle

Hidden Gem: Regatta de Blanc

Rocks In The Attic #215: Simon & Garfunkel – ‘Bridge Over Troubled Water’ (1970)

RITA#215I prefer Bookends, but as a piece of work I’m very confident this is the pinnacle of Simon & Garfunkel’s achievements. It’s their Abbey Road, and who knows what they would have gone on to do throughout the ‘70s if this hadn’t been their swan song. I’ve heard it said that this album sounds ‘effortless’, and that’s a very good word to describe it. Paul Simon makes these eleven songs sound like they’re falling out of him, and they’re put across with very little in the way of fuss.

In the space of just a couple of years, the pair progressed from a folk duo, into a folk-rock duo, and finally arrived at this album which traverses a number of different musical styles. You can hear elements of Paul Simon’s future solo career in some of the more world-music sounding songs – in the same way (but not as nearly as foreboding) as you can hear Sting’s impending solo warblings in the last couple of Police records.

There’s a nice house across the creek from my house – it’s mustard coloured and looks very Frank Lloyd Wright-esque. It’s a house to aspire to and I’ll always think of it when I hear the Simon & Garfunkel track at the end of side one.

Hit: Bridge Over Troubled Water

Hidden Gem: The Only Living Boy In New York

Rocks In The Attic #167: The Police – ‘Every Breath You Take: The Singles’ (1986)

I love The Police. They seem to drift in and out of ‘hipness’ and I fear at the time of writing that they’re incredibly unhip to listen to. Fuck it.

The best bands around are always the ones where nobody in the group is expendable. Lots of drummers and bass players (and guitarists even) are so interchangeable that it almost seems wrong to refer to them as a band. Sometimes they’re only in a band out of being in the right place at the right time, maybe they don’t aggravate the creative force/s in the band, or they simply are talented by association (The Jacksons, The Wilsons, etc). The members of The Police on the other hand are so expert in their instruments that if you removed any one of them out of the equation, they wouldn’t sound like The Police any more.

I have to say I love their first two albums the most, the third is still pretty good, but then they start going down the path of sounding like a Sting solo album. When I hear a song like Tea In The Sahara, I really have a problem believing that Andy Summers or Stewart Copeland had any input whatsoever.

I really love the cover of the single for Can’t Stand Losing You – truly a fantastic image for a great song, and proof that bands really don’t put that level of input into their single releases any more.

Hit: Roxanne

Hidden Gem: Can’t Stand Losing You

Rocks In The Attic #105: The Police – ‘Outlandos d’Armour’ (1978)

Rocks In The Attic #105: The Police - ‘Outlandos d’Armour’ (1978)As far as debut records go, this has to be one of my favourites. It’s a little bit punk, a little bit reggae, and all wrapped up in a minimalist pop recording. People don’t tend to like The Police because of Sting’s later crimes against music, but I prefer to ignore his faux-bohemian noodlings and concentrate on his work in this band.

They’re just a perfect band: in Sting, you have a bass-playing, pop song-writing vocalist (with an unmistakable, high-register voice that’s very difficult to emulate); in Stewart Copeland, you have a jazz inflected drummer, who’s not scared to try something new (his timing and beat on Roxanne takes it uncharted territory for a pop song); and in Andy Summers, you have a slightly older guitarist (he played on stage with Hendrix, and counted The Animals as one of his former bands!), with a very progressive approach to chord progressions.

Those sort of attributes can sometimes weigh a band down – but probably because they’re all as equally talented, you don’t really hear anything too weighty or self-indulgent. I’ve heard David Fricke from Rolling Stone magazine say that after the assassination of John Lennon, the next big event in pop music to have a global impact on the youth of the day was when The Police split up in the mid-80s. Although they became a watered-down version of themselves on their later albums, you can understand, with this debut, how they made such an impact.

Hit: Roxanne

Hidden Gem: Next To You