Synchronicity: 1983/84

The Police - Stardom, long tour take toll on trio's spontaneity...

The big weekend has come and gone.

It has been several years since the Greensboro Coliseum staged a rock music event with as much build-up as the back-to-back appearances of The Police last Friday and Saturday nights. 

Considering the hype, and the incredible demand for tickets that sparked almost instant sell-outs of the 32,000 available seats for the two shows, the events of the past weekend need to be put in perspective.

The two days The Police spent in Greensboro may have been most memorable as an extremely interesting study in stardom. The three-man group had most recently appeared in North Carolina twice in early 1982 (in Charlotte as well as at the coliseum). At that time The Police had already risen from the status of a new wave-era cult band to an important force in mainstream rock music.

But in the ensuing two years, The Police have grown into THE biggest group world- wide in popular music. This event was covered by virtually every major newspaper and television station in the area. Such attention from fans and media is just one of the inherent pressures of superstardom; the often impossible task of topping your previous effort every time out has led to the rapid burnout of many of rock's brightest lights.

Luckily for the band (and for the thousands of extremely young fans who got their first glimpse of the group, if not their first concert experience ever, this past weekend), The Police seem to be coping with stardom better than most. Not coping completely, mind you, but better than most of their superstar peers. For one thing, the band members have had the good sense to plan an "extended break" following the completion of this year-long tour next month.

And it was obvious The Police are weary. Neither 1984 concert had the sheer intensity nor the mystical moments that highlighted the group's 1982 tour. Unfortunately, the trade-off that goes with being a supergroup allows more people to par- take in the musical experience of a band, but dilutes that experience at the same time. While an almost spiritual union of band and audience was a trademark of The Police in their Third World-influenced middle period, the mature version of the group appeared unable to rekindle that magic with the same ease.

To be sure, The Police served up a few goosebumps this past weekend. The encore version of 'Can't Stand Losing You' was a giddy moment both nights, though it was one of the few highlights of the slower Friday show. Audience spontaneity on Saturday night seemed to lift The Police a bit. Resulting were such memorable scenes as an eerie, 16,000-person chorus of 'Message in a Bottle', ditto during 'King of Pain' and a rocking rendition of 'Roxanne' that, as lead singer Sting pointed out, nearly "raised the roof."

Spontaneity was something The Police themselves were often lacking, however. The group performed exactly the same 19-song set in exactly the same order both nights. Even Sting's song introductions, banter, "impromptu" political commentaries and efforts to lead the audience in singing were nearly identical.

So it was left up to the respective audiences to set the tone for the individual shows. From the minute opening act Reflex took the stage on Saturday night, it was obvious that the second night would top the first. The crowd was much more receptive to the British techno-pop band, which was enjoying itself in the way only musicians who don't have the monkey of superstardom on their backs can.

And the Saturday throng seemed to rejuvenate The Police, which proceeded to offer fresher, more energetic versions of their introspective as well as their political songs. Even Sting's road-worn vocals were dramatically improved Saturday, and stoic guitarist Andy Summers gave flashes of genius throughout. Drummer Stewart Copeland's sense of timing, power and mood were brilliant both nights.

The nine offerings from the hugely successful 'Synchronicity' album (especially non-hits like 'O My God') were stronger the second time around, though a relative lack of older material and sparser instrumentation left many Police veterans disappointed.

Conspicuous in their absence from the set were hits like 'Every Little Thing She Does is Magic' and 'So Lonely'. Also painfully obvious was the inflexibility of the set, which ended both times with the lone encore 'Can't Stand Losing You' and left Saturday night's encore-deserving crowd hanging.

But the majority of the young fans in attendance, many of whom had made the pilgrimage from all over the three-state region to see The Police, barely noticed such things. After all, The Police had provided one of the bright moments of the year on the area music scene, and though the shows may not have been up to Police standards, the group still put on two above-average rock concerts.

Such is stardom.

(c) Greensboro Record by Bill Gupton

A View Of The No. 1 Group In The World...

I have met Sting and I am his.

Last Saturday night to please a younger woman I went to the Greensboro Coliseum to see The Police.

Pleasing a younger woman is one thing. The Police and its star known only as Sting are another. Man and boy I've covered the great ones for the past 45 years. But never have I seen the likes of a live concert by the No.1 group in the world. Not in the AP Poll. But in the world!

No warm up. No pregame ceremonies. The place where I seen the likes of Phil Ford, David Thompson, James Worthy etc. went dark. Then some said, "Let there be light" and all hell broke loose.

My senses were assumed and for the next hour and a half I was treated to the first 93-minute standing ovation of my life. They didn't need seats, Everybody stood. Even me.

The sound was deafening. In fact, eight days later if you should see me on the street, speak loudly. I don't read lips.

The lighting was like the lightning of a tropical storm. Multi-colour smoke filled the area. Dante could have explained it. They have moved his Inferno into the Greensboro Coliseum.

I thought of bolting through a door and out into the serenity of the parking lot. But I would have to have passed by my date. Even though her big brown eyes were glued to the stage I could not have left her standing there with her baggage tag in hand and Sting only a dozen rows away.

I was trapped. "When are they going to play a ballad?" I screamed in my date's ear. "They just did," she replied.

Suddenly I felt a change coming over me. With out knowing it I was clapping to the sound of the music. At least, I thought I was.

The Sting threw a fisted hand into the air. Forty thousand fists replied. Strangely, I thought of a Hitler Youth rally at Nuremburg. Suddenly, I knew the meaning of mob hysteria. The fine line of difference between positive and negative forces.

Then it was over. The house lights came up and The Police had disappeared. Somehow I had survived.

"They're great," I said to my date with all the cool I could muster.

"So are you," the big brown eyed one replied warmly.

I passed two people with white hair who kept me from being the oldest folk in the arena. I nodded knowingly.

"By the way," I said to my date, "I hear the Stones are planning a farewell tour."

She reignited. "Oh, can you get tickets?" 

"Whatever makes your boat float, my dear." I replied super casually.

We walked hand-in-hand out into the cool, quiet night. I was young again. Sting had seen to that.

(c) Chapel Hill News by Billy Carmichael