Sting, a well-behaved Englishman at the Paléo Festival...
The English singer and bassist gave a polished concert at the Nyon festival on Wednesday evening, a bit too dull for the immensity of the Main Stage.
About fifteen minutes before the start of his concert, a welcome rain fell on the Asse plain. But instead of the potentially expected thunderstorm, it was only a light, barely refreshing drizzle that quickly dissipated. When Sting politely stepped onto the Paléo Festival's Main Stage and began his set with "Message in a Bottle," taken from the second of the five albums he released with The Police between 1978 and 1983, the air was dry. The British musician continued with Englishman in New York (his solo hit from the late 1980s), Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic (The Police, 1981) and If You Love Somebody Set Them Free (the first single from his first solo album, The Dream of the Blue Turtles, 1985).
While this opening is perfect in its choice of songs, we are unfortunately quickly confronted with the paradox that Sting's concerts often have. Despite what he represents in the history of music, despite the quality of his writing, a polite boredom quickly sets in. Red and blue striped T-shirt, tight black pants and boots, Gordon Matthew Thomas Sumner, 70 years old, is still imposingly classy, firmly gripping his Fender bass, which, for its part, seems to be showing its age. Surrounded by five musicians and two backing singers, he does the job, but little more. From The Bridge, his dispensable last album released last year, If It's Love and Rushing Water are hardly convincing and introduce a long, soft underbelly.
The songs follow one another, Sting and his musicians stretching them out as they wish, slowing down the tempo where open-air festival concerts require something more sustained. While a reinterpretation of Wrapped Around Your Finger leaves one perplexed, a sluggish version of Roxanne as an encore creates the same impression of waste. Although he tries to get the audience to sing along, Sting isn't cut out for crowds of tens of thousands. Three years ago, the intimacy of the Stravinski Auditorium, as part of Montreux Jazz, would have suited him better. We dream of seeing him one day in a jazz club.
Even if So Lonely later sees the audience awaken somewhat, the Wallsend native's propensity to prefer reggae nonchalance to rock aggression is perplexing. Alongside him, guitarists Dominic and Rufus Miller, a father and son, also remain a little too polite, while young drummer Zach Jones is far too diligent, hammering out the rhythm more than embracing it. As the concert ends with an intimate version of Fragile, we feel like we've already forgotten him.
(c) Le Temps by Stéphane Gobbo
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