Synchronicity: 1983/84

The Police on the beat: arresting charisma, skill...

The Police Sting, bass, keyboards, vocals; Andy Summers, guitar, vocals; Stewart Copeland, drums and percussion. With UB40. Presented by New West and Contemporary Productions.

A spectator was heard to remark after the high-energy concert offered by the Police Thanksgiving night at Kemper Arena that the group's two Britons and one American are really musicians masquerading as rock stars. The point was well-taken. Despite the group's meticulously Rock cultivated image and its ability to produce artfully constructed and shrewdly packaged pop songs, the performers bring to their music a level of sophistication that makes them unique among commercially successful rock bands. That sophistication also suggests that they might be happier simply making music in the studio than preening be fore hungry fans in packed arenas.

Should that be the case, it was the misfortune of bassist Sting (whose real name is Gordon Sumner), guitarist Andy Summers and percussionist Stewart Copeland to be born with qualities that make them ideal to be peddled as human commodities who happen to make music. These guys exude charisma.

As a result, their popularity seems to have crossed the line separating simple admiration from idolatry. Their unfaltering ascension seems certain to provide them a resting place on that ethereal plane inhabited by Elvis Presley, the Beatles and the other demi-gods of rock'n'roll.

So it is not surprising that many in the capacity crowd of about 15,000 seemed less interested in listening to music than in coming away from the arena with a symbolic piece of the performers - something that in some way might make them feel closer to the rock stars of their dreams.

Although the crowd remained reasonably civilized during UB40's warm-up set, order largely broke down when the Police took the stage. Spectators on the main floor watched the show standing on their chairs. A sea of fans, many wearing T-shirts bearing images of the Police or Union Jacks, surged forward.

In the multitude swarming near the stage, some young women were given a better view when their male companions hoisted them onto their shoulders. A group of fans hurled a banner bearing the tricolored symbol of the 'Synchronicity' album onto the stage apron. A young woman bolted on stage and was carried away. And when a roadie tossed some of Mr. Copeland's drumsticks into a group of satiated fans after the show, several of them gleefully claimed the used instruments as trophies.

Although the realities of arena acoustics rendered the 21 songs performed by the group inferior to their recorded versions, the crowd was primed for rock and brought the band back for two encores.

Through superior musicianship and the aid of electronic wizardry, the band produced a remarkably full sound, with assistance from three backup vocalists whose skills provided an important function on only a handful of songs, most notably 'Roxanne'.

The band opened the show with the title song from 'Synchronicity' and followed it with a skilfully executed set that mixed older and recent material. The performance gathered intensity as it progressed, aided by the creative use of theatrical smoke and lighting effects that deserve praise for accentuating the music without being absurd.

Hits rolled from the stage, to the ecstasy of the crowd, including 'De Do Do Do, De Da Da Da', 'Don't Stand So Close to Me', 'Message in a Bottle', 'Walking on the Moon', 'Spirits in the Material World', 'Invisible Sun', 'King of Pain', 'Every Breath You Take' and 'So Lonely'.

Sting provided his customary engaging husky vocals and used a bass guitar for most numbers, although he used a cut-away stand-up bass on one song and played electronic keyboards on another.

He demonstrated a playful stage presence, frequently demanding shouted responses from the audience and urging its members to sing along.

At one point he briefly picked out the melody of the 'Bonanza' theme between tunes and during their first encore he broke into a couple of verses of "Kansas City" during an extended version of 'I Can't Stand Losing You'.

Sting may be the King of Pain, but he is also the king of the stage and once demonstrated his royal impatience when he hurled away a failing microphone in anger.

That's the sort of behaviour we expect of our demigods. After all, they're only human.

(c) The Kansas City Star by Robert C. Trussell