Reggatta de Blanc: 1979/80

The Police: They Can Do No Wrong...

The Police, the new wave rock group whose second album shot to 57 its first week on the Rolling Stone top 100, raided San Diego's Civic Theatre last week and made it clear that they are going to be around for awhile.

They also made it clear that a band comprised only of the three primary instruments of rock - guitar, bass, and drums need not become dependent on studio magic. With a little imagination, and a lot of talent and enthusiasm, three pieces can still carry a crowd.

What makes The Police intriguing is immediately noticeable in their better songs: an undisguised reggae undercurrent.
 
Incorporating reggae into the electric straight-rock format of new wave had to be a gamble; one can imagine record executives telling the three it was a commendable but doomed idea.

But The Police pull it off. Indeed, they may be only the beginning of a new direction in new wave. Their biggest asset is Sting, the bass player who also sings all the leads with a voice that was tailor-made for reggae's understated beat. 

Sting's high-pitched, powerful vocals are reminiscent of the best of Jimmy Cliff. And his bouncing antics on stage, his obvious delight over being in control of the audience, recall the primal forces that first pulled reggae music out of Jamaican culture.

Drummer Stewart Copeland was also at his best when putting out the reggae beat. In fact, Copeland's subtle riffs through every repose saved the band from the hazard of reggae's monotonous lapses. Only guitarist Andy Summers seemed less than comfortable with the reggae flair. Plunking or strumming rhythm, he was flawless, but upon coming out front, he sometimes lacked the constant drive needed for a good hard lead.

As far as the crowd was concerned, though, The Police could do no wrong. Most of the fans were in the throes of adolescence and suffering from acute hero worship and were putty in Sting's hands. Not two measures into the pop hits 'Message in the Bottle' and 'Roxanne', girls in leopard skins and boys in skinny black ties and sunglasses were up and dancing, arms in the air.

At one point, during the encore version of 'I Was Born in the 50s', Sting and Summers began heckling a bouncer who had removed a frenzied youth from the front of the stage, calling the hired he-man a "fascist," an "idiot," and some of the less attractive parts of the human anatomy.

That, of course, opened the gate to the throngs, who immediately rushed the stage. By the end of the song, teenage girls were dancing beside the band, and when it was over, a half-dozen or so chased The Police into the wings. Exciting, but not something the group should attempt at a place like the Sports Arena, where they may end up before too long. 

(c) North County Times by Steve Hawk