Songs with a real Sting...
Sometimes you had to keep counting them to make sure there were really only four of them on stage. It didn't seem possible for Sting to improve on last year's album 'Ten Summoner's Tales'. But he did - he brought the core of the band along who recorded it with him, David Sancious (keyboards), Vinnie Colaiuta (drums) and the versatile Dominic Miller (guitars).
It was a relaxed, but absorbing and superbly crafted set, stripped of any flabby musicianship and pretensions. Sting had just enough of the crowd-pleasing chat, reminding us it had been 12 years since he was last in South Wales, and that The Police had played their first gig here.
He dropped in a surprisingly unweary version of The Beatles' 'A Day In The Life', previous solo hits like 'Englishman In New York' and 'King Of Pain', but most of the set was taken up with 'Summoner's Tales'. 'Fields Of Gold', 'Seven Days' and 'It's Probably Me' are just three that must rank among the best he's produced. You can afford to leave old classics on the back burner when you've got new ones like these to take their place.
Back to his song-writing best, he only needed to go back that far twice - prompting a singalong for 'Roxanne', which was elongated by a sleazy dub, and ending with a gentle 'Every Breath You Take'.
(c) The South Wales Echo by Michael Cooke
Cardiff Indoor Arena. Sting...
Never mind the rainforests, here's Sting, back in Wales for the first time in umpteen years and recalling the Police's debut in a Newport nightclub, with a host of their old tunes.
Out on tour in support of the new album, 'Ten Summoners Tales' the Tales the newly skin headed Sting looked relaxed (and thankfully smug-free) as he knocked out selected highlights from his last four solo outings and a few humdingers from his days as one of the three mightiest blonde heads in pop.
It was a formula not designed for failure and a sell-out audience lapped up every minute of it although it wasn't really the kind of gig that impresses picky types like myself.
Why? Well before I'm hung, drawn and quartered by the trouser-suited, Lentheric coated hordes of up- market, pro-Sting totty who bayed for the rock god like the hounds of love for much of the night, I'll elaborate.
The show lacked direction, it was a pleasing but by no means challenging
Also a big drawback about old Sting these days is that each tour brings with it a new A-team of slick session players who tend to be allowed to run riot.
Sometimes it works but that's a rare occurrence.
Of the latest batch, the ostentatious play of the guitarist was hard to stomach although keyboard player David Sanchez did manage to pull the fat out of the fire on the odd occasions to even up the score.
Also this pursuit of technique over content seems to have crept into his latest work at the expense of genuine excitement and the telling factor is that the old stuff is far more overpowering than any of his new tunes.
On the plus side he swung his bass like a bazooka, sung like a trouper and dropped a lot of the worthy baggage that had turned him into such a smarmy old duffer.
A great gig but no passion.
(c) South Wales Argus by Julian Carey
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