Blown by Dan! Dan's Comments on "Undercover"
Wow-first. What an honor.
So much to say. Much like just about any cricially acclaimed music from before I was 20, the Police fit into an enormous category of music about which through my youth, I continually felt on the outside looking in. Here's PMix, off bandying about the topics of world politics, socioeconomic justice, and lyrics by the Police; while I was busy trying to start the Waterloo Ghostbusters with Robert Reilley and recording crappy versions of "Romancing the Stone" and Huey Lewis' "If This is It" on a 19-cent Zimac tape I got from World Radio - complete with local radio DJs doing Shagnasty commercials through the first 10 seconds. I was, in short, everything Mix was not; and I had a corresponding amount of insecurity I was carrying about with me. No wonder turned his back on me time and again in 7th grade T.A.G. I would have, too, if I'd have been in his shoes.
So-where are we? My first awareness of "The Police." Around 7th grade. For some reasons, a T.A.G. class in the junior high library. I remember someone having a tape of "Ghost in the Machine" (I think...) I remember the "Don't Stand So Close to Me" video with the Police being so zany and dancing around. But other than that, I had little awareness of the group and their various string of hits until probably college. Weird, since all the songs were so familiar to me by then. I guess I just hadn't put it together that it was the Police singing those songs. "Weird," you say? Well, remember - they just weren't very much on my radar at the time. I just had some sort of defense mechanism that would pop up whenever I heard a band like "The Police," "U2," "Led Zepplin" or whoever come up. I was mired in a world of fly-by-night top 40. And whether I was happy or fulfilled with it was not really the point. I was far to messed up to be in a position to do much of anything about it. And dipping into "bastions of rock excellence" at the time would have gotten me in far over my head in a hurry. Strangely, I distinctly remember being aware of the individual names of Police albums. However, hearing someone mention "Synchronicity" would make me pee my pants. What did that even mean? Lord knows, but I wasn't in the know. "Ghost in the Machine" was just plain scary. And "Zenyatta Mondatta?" Do you have any idea what an exotic name like that could do to a kid in my position? Hell.
So fast forward to me out of college. Making up for lost time in my worldview and disc collection, I try to accumulate a wealth of "The Police" in a single shot, buying "Every Breath You Take: The Singles." And - and this is going to blow your mind - it ends up being one of the first discs culled from my collection in one of my future years' de-discifications. It seemed that, while I could appreciate all the individual songs, none of them ever did enough for me to motivate me to stick the thing into my stereo. It was maybe a "parts were greater than the whole" sort of thing, but I conspicuously noticed them being absent from my disc rotation, and it just seemed like I'd be better without that collection of hits in it. Perhaps some lingering fears, after all those years gone by.
A lot of backstory. Well, very little of that history was affecting me when I got ready to dig into this particular collection. I found it a bit exciting, in fact, to dig into deeper tracks, unknown to me, in this discography which is generally believed to be among rock's most storied & beloved. I can, and have since "Dream of the Blue Turtles," been able to apprecaite Sting - or at least the Sting that was before his infamous meeting in the recording studio with Rod Stewart and Bryan Adams for the recording of the raspiest ballad in the history of pop.
I've been aware, through much of my adult life, of Stewart Copeland's skill and inventiveness. And, to a lesser degree, of Sting's extremely high vocal range and ability to play synchopated (synchronicity) bass while singing. But this collection really drove home to me how tight these guys really were.
The second thing I noticed, was the energy. The sort of exuberance and kick-ass rocking of youth that elderly, mature musicians just cannot seem to fake. Mix-your "can you imagine Sting doing something that silly now" remark could be applied to every song on the disc, with a different word inserted for "silly" each time. And, at that youthful, exuberant best, there was this crystal clear parallel I noticed between them and early U2. U2, certainly more raw, musicially, and maybe a bit less brainy. But a little more passionate. But both of them with just driving, purposeful rock; and a guy just wailing around in the upper vocal ranges. Noted-your interesting and great note about the symbollic "handing off of the baton" in 1985.
U2 parallels abound, but I was surprised at how many different groups of note I was reminded of, on one song or another, in this collection.
Oh - and I loved the collection. But this has been the longest intro ever. Let's dig in!!!
1. Be My Girl - Sally: OK, this first other-group comparison is easy: The Who. How seamlessly that spoken word section would have fit in on any of a number of Who albums. Why is it that a Brit can make words like that so funny? Would it seem so funny to us, if it were spoken by an American? Other than that, pretty straightforward, driving rock. I don't quite see the connection between the "Won't you be my girl" refrain and the spoken word part, where there's no indication he's asking the rubber doll anything. Let me try a quick hand at reconstruction of the song: they come up with a repetitive hook they know they want to use, but are unwilling (or unable) to finish it off, so they pair it up at the last moment with a silly thing they'd been toying around with. Voila! I do like how the main musical part comes in again at the end of the spoken part, quiety and fading up. Also, did someone in the band do the speaking part? It was done well. I love the joy that exudes out of the saying of "...pumped her with some life." Could nearly have been delivered by Eric Idle (or Keith Moon).
2. So Lonely: I know they were exploring a fringe-reggae-styled form of music for a portion of their career, so I'm not suggesting any type of rip-off; but the style of this song reminds me very clearly of Zep's inexplicably-named "D'Yer Maek'er." Really, really neat use of the guitar accents and individual note fills. Great singing, too. He really put himself out on the line, belting it out so high (pitch-wise) and, in the midst of those relatively sparse arrangements, really out there in the arrangements. Not much margin of error. One of my favorte things a male vocalist can do is have the energy, or loudness, or passion, or whatever of their voice drive them to where a portion of a phrase from their usually-clear voice is driven to a slight scratch. If I was female, I think that would just melt me. Bono did it a ton in "In a Little While." Sting does it quite a bit; with the end of his very first phrase in this song "...told me yesterday" being an excellent example. I also like how that same force will often drive his voice to sort of quiver at the end of lines of his songs. Neat harmony. Very good song; though these boys make me wonder if, sometimes in the studio, they sat around discussing songs like the following:
Andy Summers: What should we do here, mates?
Sting: Hmmm...what if we repeated the chorus...50 fucking times?
Stewart Copeland (under his breath): What, again?
3. Can't Stand Losing You: You suggest this may not be true "undercover," and I agree. It was the number two song on the greatest hits collection I once owned, and I believe it may have been a bona-fide radio hit. A great song, nevertheless; and, as part of this collection, I truly feel that I am "hearing it again for the first time." A lot to love here, only a little to be annoyed at, and a couple things to laugh with and at. I think only a Sting this young could tackle the topic of suicide in such a flippant manner. But it really works, here. Creative and unique arrangement to intro to the song. And when it leaps into what I'd call the bridge "And I guess you'd call it cowardice..." - wow. Very kick-ass guitar, right there, with a good harmony, to boot. (Schell's October Ale refill break) I like the somewhat disonant, stark vocal after the chrous "I can't stop losing you, I can't stop losing you-ooo." Hard not too like the "LP records and they're all scratched" line. Hey-nice 80's producer-induced instrumental break starting at 1:34! Reminds me a lot of that ridiculous synthesizer sound at 3:13 of U2's "Unforgettable Fire." I think it was Mighty that first pointed out the "80s-producr" concept behind that to me, and I thought it hilarious. I've been fine-tuned to such things ever since. Also kind of funny: "Well I guess you'd call it suicide." Well, yeah! And closing out the song? nother 50 fucking repeats of the chorus.
4. Regatta de Blanc: They got a grammy for this? This song? Wow-they really were short of Grammy categories back then! It's OK, and a decently fun jam, but God-I gotta think there's about 5,000+ bands at any given time in this country alone that can throw together a jam of this quality in any given session. Perhaps it really was groundbreaking at the time. It is so damned U2-like, though, I'm a bit surprised that Mixdorf mentioned "Bring on the Night" as one of his favorite songs, and not this one. So, this song starts off with a sort of auralscape and clicky drum introduction, then kicks into a decidedly different part right around 0:43. Right at that moment, I'm thinking total U2, From the echoey, "ping"-ey high notes on guitar to the throbbing, single note bassline. I wonder if this was the song that was done right before handing off the baton? Yet another comparison - try my challenge: start listening at 1:58 and tell me you don't think of the B-52s. Funny - think of Kate Pierson launching her career after being inspired by Sting's caterwauling.
5. The Bed's Too Small Without You: Very different, starting off! Tell me the first 20-30 seconds wouldn't have been right at home on Danbient! I love the synchopated guitar phrases. Very bold and cutting-edge, is what I think when I hear this. Youthful daring and passion, again. Yet another song you couldn't imagine Sting doing in this day and age. This, to me, sounds like it almost certainly emerged as a result of a jam - undoubtedly from one of their more chummy periods. Probably didn't take a ton of more work to get it to a final recording stage. Though I'm not sure how they worked in the studio, it's interesting that a song like this came to be with a group that strikes us as really tight. I wouldn't be surprised if there were sections that were more or less jammed right in the recording.
6. Bring on the Night: Damn-there is some kind of Fleetwood Mac or Stevie Nicks song that has a riff almost identical to the opening to this song (until the echo-ey guitar comes in), but for the life of me, I can't place it. Now, in re-reading the lyrics, I think I can see why this would be Mixdorf's B.S. for the album: Sting never sounded so Bono-esque. Good words, good imagery. I remember seeing a copy of an early promotional piece by "Men at Work" really trying to tout singer Colin Hay as a Sting soundalike. I've always thought it kind of silly, but I gotta say, for the first time ever, I think I'm hearing it, right here in this song. Perhaps it's in the arrangement, which would not seem totally out of place on a MAW album - not to me, anyway. Verses and choruses, alike. And damn, if Sting doesn't sound a bit like Hay. Very inventive music, from the chord changes to the ringy guitar strain to the hopping bass of the choruses. Nice singing, very good words. I like this song a lot.
7. Man in a Suitcase: Starting to be a bit more like a more mature Sting, lyric-wise. An earlier world traveler rant in the vein of "Englishman in New York." If punk, as you see it: definitely more of the Elvis Costello variety than the Fugazi. A dichotomy of styles that I've personally never quite been able to reconcile being in within the same genre. The song doesn't do a ton for me, though I will make a remark on the unrelated (or only related in sharing the same album) "Don't Stand So Close to Me" comment about being the only good use of the Lolita thing. If you mean "only good song," I would say, "She's Sixteen" is a great song. However, if you mean the only one that treats the subject as what it is: a bit disturbing, then I agree. These rock artists are allowed to go full-bore into the subject of cradle robbing in a manner that people in no other industry would be allowed. And I ask you: is there any group of individuals with whom you'd be less comfortable leaving your under-16 year old daughter with than rock musicians?
8. Canary in a Coalmine: This among my favorite songs on the album; however, the Master of the Metaphor perhaps loves the particular metaphor in the title just a bit too much. Mr. Rainforest should really consider how many extra trees have been cut down in the printing of extra pages of liner notes to accomodate his repeated choruses. Great words nevertheless, and a fun, skippy riff & bassline, along with a catchy set of chord changes carry me through this song with great ease. I love the constant, tight, harmonies! I must mention: nice out-of-place Billy Joel piano at 1:28. I am starting to get the idea these guys just let their mid-80's producers stick their musical dicks in any trackhole they wanted during recording sessions. This song haunted me for at least two days.
9. Secret Journey: Hmm...for some reason, this song doesn't work for me really well as a standalone tune. I can totally hear "Spirits in the Material World" in it, from the arrangements to even the musical progression within the song. I can see how it would work within the context of an album; setting up a song after or keeping a feel going. I don't like the "etheral" keyboardy/synthesizer sounds at the very beginning and again at 2: 23. To me it sounds like some sort of musical announcement that "you are going to hear something very deep and beyond you," but the effect for me is dated and a bit dopey. Very great words, from a Sting who is very obviously at the top of his lyrical game. Arrangments starting to be a lot, a lot more dense here; and the effect is a much different Police. This is starting to sound like solo Sting, don't you think?
10. Hungry for You: Wow-very much "solo Sting." If the other guys (Andy, Stewart) liked The Police the way it used to be, no wonder they were getting all pissed off at him. It's quite obvious that he is taking them in a completely different direction. Based on arrangement, this might as well be the sister song of "If You Love Somebody, Set Them Free." What is the deal, here? How does a guy go from being the frontman to a 3-piece band with one of the sparsest arrangements you've ever heard to releasing solo albums that are so layered and dense you don't know what the hell you're listening to? What's he hiding? Sting! What are you running from? I'm sorry, I never really got along to translating all the French, and now it's quite late. But in it, he almost certainly says something about "drinking your blood." And the rest, I'm sure, is just big French words thrown in to make it sound like he's better than us. I think the horn section is cheesy. This song really does very little for me.
Overall: Thank you so much for the re-introduction. I really needed that. I could not have told you anything approximating this "take away" two months ago, but now I feel quite a bit like any exploration of the Police that I do will center on their earlier years. I am also open to re-listening to some of those other Greatest Hits, but with a new ear. Thanks, man, for inviting me inside the bubble, after all these years!
B.S. 4 song tie??? Bring on the Night, Canary in a Coalmine, So Lonely, Can't Stand Losing You
SIWHI: n/a (I don't know Police back catalogue)
posted by Dan at 9:23 PM
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