Saw The Police last night.
I hadn't given much thought to how tunes would be reworked but reading the reviews this morning I was retroactively grateful that taste prevailed over ego and rearrangements of the big hits that had been performed in other cities had been rolled back in favour of faithful renderings. So good on them for wanting to try something new, and a second round of kudos for not being stubborn about it when it wasn't working (as early reviews suggested). They still did the "live show" thing and gave something different from what you get on the records, and not always out of the sheer necessity of working as a live trio.
Goddamn can they play. Andy sedately strumming bizarro chords with his fingers somehow stretched to half the length of his guitar's neck, then ripping into a solo that sounds like he started in the middle and worked out to both ends at the same time; Stewart's invisible third hand attack that always keeps out of the way of the song except when giving it a shove from behind; and ... christ, somehow I wound up paying money to see Sting. I swore I'd never do that, but he broke his word too I guess. And he actually played his bass. With his hands. Plugged in. With nobody else playing bass upstage.
As for the setlist, it consisted of every single, except for two that took me until we were out of the venue to recall ("Bring on the Night" and "Spirits in the Material World") and was punctuated handily by the stickiest album cuts. They looked like they were having fun the whole way through except for Stewart's occasional "I'm getting too old for this" faces, which now that I think of it are just variations on his "I'm going to kick that whiny prick's ribs in before the encore" faces of yore. Even without anyone diving over a drum riser with fists raised I still got my money's worth.
I hadn't given much thought to how tunes would be reworked but reading the reviews this morning I was retroactively grateful that taste prevailed over ego and rearrangements of the big hits that had been performed in other cities had been rolled back in favour of faithful renderings. So good on them for wanting to try something new, and a second round of kudos for not being stubborn about it when it wasn't working (as early reviews suggested). They still did the "live show" thing and gave something different from what you get on the records, and not always out of the sheer necessity of working as a live trio.
Goddamn can they play. Andy sedately strumming bizarro chords with his fingers somehow stretched to half the length of his guitar's neck, then ripping into a solo that sounds like he started in the middle and worked out to both ends at the same time; Stewart's invisible third hand attack that always keeps out of the way of the song except when giving it a shove from behind; and ... christ, somehow I wound up paying money to see Sting. I swore I'd never do that, but he broke his word too I guess. And he actually played his bass. With his hands. Plugged in. With nobody else playing bass upstage.
As for the setlist, it consisted of every single, except for two that took me until we were out of the venue to recall ("Bring on the Night" and "Spirits in the Material World") and was punctuated handily by the stickiest album cuts. They looked like they were having fun the whole way through except for Stewart's occasional "I'm getting too old for this" faces, which now that I think of it are just variations on his "I'm going to kick that whiny prick's ribs in before the encore" faces of yore. Even without anyone diving over a drum riser with fists raised I still got my money's worth.
Is it wrong that I put the most attractive covers at the front. I love books but why do they have to take up so much space? I haven't even started yet.