57th & 9th: World Tour

Sting The King...

The "Goodbye" at the exit has been corrected. The mandolins of "Bella Musica" remain, the official theme song for Moon and Stars, a song by Nella Martinetti that doesn't exactly sound like happening rock, but—given the Germanic accent pervading the streets and the press room—it feels very homey. And then, the festival has made a leap in sound quality, no more killer frequencies from the sound desk and a great stage, just the right amount of rustic. There's a gray, Highland sky, but it's not the cold of "If on a Winter's Night," the old winter album by the man who will take the stage. The heat in Piazza Grande is Californian, with peaks of Riccione after lunch and a sprinkling of London rain around 7 p.m. Regardless of the weather, when Sting takes the stage, he's the King of the Square, and time bows to him, mercifully.

A step back. Tom Odell opened, "a young Elton John," a definition periodically used when a new piano player appears (Daniel Powter, Ben Folds, and the like, but the hunt for the heir has never ended). The young man opens with the beautiful "Still Getting Used to Being on My Own" and "I Know" follows, a heavy sound like that of his grandfather Reg, a face that pierces the big screens and a sober elegance in his pounding of the piano, supported by a precise and equally young band. And on "Constellations," the pianist tries (tries) to touch hearts with the ballad, something his ancestor managed for 45 years with "Your Song."

A few minutes ahead. To Sting. Arriving at (almost) 66 in as good a shape as Gordon Sumner. And not because of the hoax (refresher, fake news) of eight-hour tantric love—a media lie like Michael Douglas in a sex addiction clinic, McCartney who isn't McCartney, and Jim Morrison who is Barry Manilow—but for his artistic reach, or even just for the opening track, "Synchronicity II," which in Locarno reconciles those nostalgic for the "real Police" and the "The Police are him" (half and half?) supporters. A blue T-shirt and dark gray pants, lean but without a facelift and with a ramshackle bass that shatters history, "If I Ever Lose My Faith in You" leads into "Spirits in the Material World," in an alternation of ex-band/solo artists never so generous as on this tour. Before “Englishman in New York” and “Every little thing she does is magic”, a few words: a “Good evening” and a “How are you” and the acknowledgement of a return.

On stage, along with the leader, there are six of them, two of them sons of artists: Dominic Miller's, Rufus, and Sting's, Joe. The first roar comes on "Shape of My Heart" (with father and son at the same microphone), a second on "Message in a Bottle." Then, the ex-Police member gives way to Joe, who belts out Bowie's "Ashes to Ashes." From there on, the song is a continuous, uninterrupted quote, starting from the new album "59th & 7th": "50,000-Walking on the Moon-So Lonely-Desert Rose-Roxanne-Ain't No Sunshine." For the encores, they draw on the 1978 debut ("Next to You") and dispense evergreens and masterpieces ("Every Breath You Take" and "Fragile"). The square and smartphones go wild.

There's nothing to regret about this father-son line-up, except the perfect chemistry of the perfect album and the perfect band of "Ten Summoners' Tales," a rare blend of songwriting and classical music, a quintessential embodiment of pop understood as "popular" and not as "filth." Along with trusty Dominic, they'd love to see Sancious' keyboards and Colaiuta's drums back. But that was 1993, and perhaps that's just barroom talk. Despite the misstep of "The Last Ship" (2013), a musical that not even the live presence of its author saved from flopping, the bassist-singer, who represents the perfect blend of physical attractiveness and overflowing talent (the balance now tipped toward attractiveness; the rest is left to the ghostwriters), is still sound and musically active.

In the Moon and Stars 2017, which strives to be new, in the Square of Great Entertainment and Great Music, on the day of the leopard-branded FFS carriages, in the land of Stan The Man, and with the permission of King Roger, at least for last night Sting was The King. Game, match, match.

(c) La Regione by Beppe Donadio