Police Reunion: 2007/08

The Police - the "public" force...

The almost granddads of the Police lived up to their legend: 100,000 arms raised to cheer them on, and the entire crowd sang along to their signature melodies.

The waves followed one another without a breath on either side of the North Bend, where the immense stage overlooked the Vélodrome. The audience, as fervent as they were family-oriented, could only wait, as night fell yesterday, for the legendary trio.

Without fuss, The Police arrived with their "Message In A Bottle." Stewart Copeland threw his baton in the air while Sting asked, "How's Marseille?" From the stands to the pitch, 50,000 mouths began to hum along before seeing on the big screen the Robinson Crusoe that Sting had become, with a devilish beard and a see-through shirt over a charming nipple.

The flashbulbs crackle, the aged eminences segue into 'Walking On The Moon', Sting commands the 100,000 arms to applaud while a velvety ecstasy envelops the stadium. Between stretched solos on old, worn-out instruments, Sting lays his satiny timbre on the 'De Do Do Do, De Da Da Da', repeated over and over by the audience.

Emotion is rife with the suave 'I Can't Stand Losing You', but it's at the first encore that everything turns red for 'Roxanne'. Marseille feels 'So Lonely' before losing its breath in a home finale where Copeland appears wearing an OM T-shirt given to him by former guitarist Henry Padovani for the final tribute, 'Next To You'.

(c) Marseilles Plus

Call off the Police!

Rock. Away victory for The Police, who gave a great concert last night at the Vélodrome. Classy, intense, but perhaps not as exceptional as the audience expected...

Police. In concert at the Vélodrome. Written like that, it doesn't mean much. But actually witnessing this strange match between three musicians "separated" for 25 years, who have made their mark on the history of rock, and 50,000 fired-up spectators, is something else.

To combat impatience, the latter indulges in a little wave. As for them, as a preliminaries, Sting and his acolytes chose to blast Bob Marley loudly over the sound system; recalling who popularized reggae, to whom they owe so much, and paying homage to his influences, that's classy.

And so, here they are. A sober entrance under a cloud of whistles, shouts, and other applause. Sting has a beard, Copeland his eternal rimmed glasses, gloves and headband, and Summers... his Stratocaster. The opening? It's almost perfect, with the launch of 'Message In A Bottle' into a sea of supporters. Behind, rather than continuing, Mr. Sting, politely obliged, makes the introductions in impeccable French. More applause. And presto, everyone starts to sing 'Walking On The Moon'. If that's not a weightless start...

But here's already some not-so-great rock, another very funky 80s thing with a slightly creepy sound: oh, are they going to switch to a stadium parade, flexing their muscles? No, rest assured, these three have class, and quickly remind us of one fundamental thing: their songs haven't aged a bit. Better still, some are wonderfully revisited, with the aim of keeping the audience happy. Take 'Don't Stand So Close To Me' for example, and above all, a fantastic rewrite of 'Can't Stand Losin' You', with its soaring build-up and spirited finale. And since the cameramen have the good sense to film all these people in action, it's also an opportunity to remember that these three are no pushovers. Not the demonstrative type, but rather musicians who know what they're doing and, above all, where they're going.

An hour has just passed without anyone noticing. The lights go out, the crowd roars. And then, back on stage with 'Roxanne': the screen walls are nothing but a big, shimmering red, the audience has just recognized THE ultimate Police hit and starts screaming. The pressure rises a notch, it will last almost 10 minutes.

Further on, it's the final blow: 'Every Little Thing She Does is Magic' puts the stadium into a trance. It feels like the end. One last encore and that's it, it's over. 1 hour and 45 minutes. For such an exceptional event, the Vélodrome was surely expecting more. Which doesn't stop it from being overjoyed.

(c) La Marseillaise by Reno Vatian