The Police File: Part 1

Since The Police are currently on tour somewhere, cashing in on a wave of nostalgia, and since Andy Summers announced a film of his autobiography (see below), and since Sting was recently named one of the worst songwriters in rock music (more on that later), niccomm has asked me to do this retrospective of the band's music. So here we go.
What can we say about the Police.... three superb musicians, check; three strong personalities, check; three monster egos, double check.
Most everyone knows the story of the band, but if you don’t here's a quick Cliff's Notes version.
Stewart Copeland, drummer for hippie art band Curved Air, sees the exploding punk scene and wants a piece of it. He finds a bass player/singer who goes by the name Sting in a jazz band. They recruit a French guitarist named Henry Padovani who plays with them for a while, but is eventually edged out by the addition of seasoned axe man Andy Summers. The Police are born.
How much of the early Police sound is attributable to Copeland? Quite a lot if you consider what he was up to at the same time the band was forming. While putting together The Police, Copeland was also recording under the name Klark Kent as a one-man band. The music is quite clever, and gained a modest following. But listen to "Don't Care," and "Grandelinquent" and you'll hear early Police.

Listen to Don't Care
Listen to Grandelinquent

Copeland says that A&M Records signed The Police to get Klark Kent. True? Could be. Or it could be his ego talking. If true, that agent had some mixed up priorities. Klark Kent was a vanity project and could never perform live, but The Police were beginning to get some notice. It wasn't long before The Police gained a following in Britain as a live band and was creating a unique sound that would influence music for years to come.
Anyway, on to the music.

Outlandos d'Amour -- 1978
With this album, The Police tried valiantly to capture the essence of punk music. The problem? They were quickly revealed as pseudo punks—seasoned musicians riding the wave of a hot trend, rather than the raw talent evidenced by bands like The Clash or even the Sex Pistols. This first collection of tracks notably does not include "Fall Out," a speed-punkish song that is pure Copeland. It was one of the very first songs the band rehearsed and became their first single release. But it wasn't long before everyone realized whom the real songwriting talent belonged to.
The album opens with "Next to You," a burning rocker that starts at race speed and never lets up. The song became a standard in the band's live set throughout its career. The real key to the Police sound began with the next song, "So Lonely." It's a mix of rock (let's not call it punk) and reggae that became the cornerstone of The Police sound. Perfect for the band's instrumentation--particularly Copeland's unique drum style--and Sting's voice. Sting has said Bob Marley’s “No Woman, No Cry”, influenced the song I consider "Can't Stand Losing you" also from this album to be like a companion song to "So Lonely"--both of them switch between rock and Carribean/latin rhythms. The middle section of "Can't Stand Losing You," sort of a spacey solo by Andy Summers, became the foundation of "Reggatta de Blanc” from the second album. Next up is arguably the band's most famous song, "Roxanne." Originally written with a different feel to it, Copeland introduced the tango rhythm to the song that took it to a new level, and Sting's plaintive wail about a prostitute was a bit of rock poetry that would be recalled in later songs by artists from George Michael to the Arctic Monkeys.
Unfortunately, the rest of the album is pretty forgettable. "Hole In My Life" and "Truth Hits Everybody" were good energetic live songs, but for some reason they flop as studio recordings. “Born In The 50s” and "Be My Girl/Sally"--although it features a pretty funny poem by Andy Summers--are best ignored after the first listen.

Listen to Can't Stand Losing You
Listen to Roxanne

Reggatta de Blanc --1979
I've always counted this as one of the albums I'd want to take with me on a desert island (assuming I'd have a way to play it, that is). It's a true classic, and solidifies the sound that defined The Police. The story is that the band hadn't rehearsed these songs before going into the studio. If true, that means that the recording captures a rare moment when a band breaks through to a different level. Nearly every song is gold, and it showcased a three-piece collaborative band that had locked into each other musically and psychically. Could this have been The Police at their prime? Maybe. The songs float along on solid grooves that take on their own lives, giving each member--particularly Copeland and Andy Summers--the chance to explore different sounds. "The Bed's Too Big Without You' and "Bring On The Night" (a song about the execution of Gary Gilmore) are perfect examples, two exhilarating stand out tracks that push the envelope, threatening to fall apart at any time but always hanging together.
"Walking On The Moon" and "Message In A Bottle" build on the reggae-tinged sound begun on the first album, but which had now reached a sophistication and maturity that made it unmistakably "The Police Sound." But the band was still true to its roots as evidenced by "It's Alright For You" and "No Time This Time," two pure rockers, with no pretense of punk (the band had long been exposed as too old and too talented to be considered as true punks).
At least for this brief shining moment immortalized on vinyl in 1979, The Police were the best band in the world.
They'd have a lot to prove with their next album... (Stay tuned for Part 2)

Listen to It's Alright For You
Listen to Walking on the Moon