Well ... I do not say arguing that heresies THE POLICE band were one of the most interesting and in depth view of world pop the last 30 years. A mixture almost perfect from all points of view:
• first-rate compositions mainly by HM Gordon Sumner, a man who knows the music seriously;
• slyly innovative arrangements, no frills, geometric, very effective. • millimeter
executions by three musicians (I stress, mu-si-us-ITS), taken individually, were to stage a bit more ambitious (jazz, progressive) and then "joked" playing pop music;
• positioning exceptional opportunity in the final of punk fishing with both hands and ending up playing the reggae pop multiforme sipping tea in the sahara ; •
texts never dull and always with the zic in most of the "sun-heart-love" that permeates the pop world;
• marketing perfect, never out of place a promo picture from a news acting nasty chat no drugs no nightlife; • production
exaggerated, especially at the hands of Hugh Padgham; •
huge response from the audience and acclaim from critics.
I could go on for hours. But to what end.
One day a guy full of himself he threw everything to the winds to "be himself" (read: cash in all share with him without the band, as if the capoladro could do by itself without the driver and the pole), play bland pseudo-jazz and arrive at a just nothing at all after going downhill for years. Of course, talking about Sting, the descent was a great level of quality and the first album with the super-omarhakim darryljones and company throw away. But in the end were
work on the conformist.
Conformists were fresh and original but rather the work of the Police.
Or maybe it's just that Sting had understood to be in gradual depletion of creative energies and preferred to kill her baby to avoid a slow sad death by bleeding.
Who knows.
Pride has always been out of proportion, that there six months a year living on an estate in Tuscany and does not know a fucking word of Italian, however, is a wine that, I believe, is called the palace . But the injury
on thinking you know with all certainty that the end would have made his band, leaving no time even to do his job was still too much.
I like the lovers who refuse to see history disappear, I would have liked to see them behind sdilinquirsi discs increasingly bloated and unnecessary, perhaps giving an occasional flap of the wings, perhaps by still touring appetizing, perhaps by remaining on the throne of world music in place of the Irish. Maybe, I say to fans of the first hour. Knowing the harsh reality, but in pretending to chat on various blogs that had remained to the glories of the good times. Some are saying that U2 fans around for years. Consciously lies. But their idols are still there to give some teporino once warmed their hearts on fire.
Like any self-respecting love, the management of decline is as important as the ascent.
But we will never know if it would be like.
all because of pride (and prejudice) of that one.
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