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MUSIC BOX
Policing the new wave
How one pines for the innovative, creative, and incredibly infectious tunes of the 80s. Sure there were a few duds, but the tailend of the 70s and the dawn of the 80s heralded a new wave of artists that carried through the creative aggression and spark of punk, while balancing melodic sense with pop sensibilities. The Police, from 1977 to 1985, were at the forefront of this ‘New Wave,’ and in their short career managed to (at the risk of sounding horribly cliched) become the biggest band in the world.
The Police’s Greatest Hits contains material from each of their five studio albums. It does a brilliant job of telling the band’s story chronologically. The first few tunes introduce Gordon Sumner’s (some of you might know him as Sting) lyrical wit, as the subjectmatter deals primarily with love and amorous rejection. Roxanne, a naughty little plea, kicks off the record. Andy Summer’s lucid guitar work starts showing its first signs of reggae/ska influence on Can’t Stand Losing You. Sting’s bass work and Stewart Copeland’s polyrhythmic drumming do not lag far behind either.
The frantic Message In A Bottle is a change of pace, as this time Sting’s high voice croons about isolation and reaching out, while Copeland keeps things interesting by abusing his hi-hat. The haunting, sparse rhythms, steady bass and occasional strums of Walking On The Moon keep one hooked. Sting takes on Nabokov’s Lolita novel on Don’t Stand So Close To Me which is somber, making it sound like a philosophical treatise. On Invisible Sun, there is a definite shift in both the band’s lyrical and musical approach. The synth is now prominent, and the lyrics are unabashedly political on this remarkable tune. The politics continue on Spirits in the Material World, another short, synth-based, bass-heavy gem. Synchronicity II is a poisonous social critique drenched in acid. In five minutes, Sting manages to sing about the breakdown of the family, modern industrial life, and the futility of cut-throat corporate politics. Not bad for a bunch of Anglo-American pretty boys. King of Pain is probably one of the Police’s best songs as far as lyrics are concerned. The tune, driven by a subtle piano riff, is heavy on imagery and allusions, and the end result is simply brilliant.
The CD contains 15 tracks, and nearly each one is striking in its own way. With almost no filler at all, this best-of is a must for present fans of Sting, along with diehard devotees of the decade of decadence. — Qasim AbdAllah Moini
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