NazgulQueen's Corner of Mordor

CATCHING THE POLICE
(Written for the Inquirer's Saturday Super Section 02.09.08)

There’s this euphoric, blissful, somewhat spiritual yet near orgasmic feeling you get when a dream comes true.

It happened when I swam with whale sharks and when I went on my first bungy jump. It happened again when I saw The Police on the 4th of February at the Singapore Indoor Stadium. “I’m here, I’m really here” I said to myself as the band walked onto the stage. There was not enough to time to philosophize however as I started screaming, singing and dancing to their opening song, “Message In A Bottle.”

The opening riffs were played and that was it. I knew I was going to have the experience of a lifetime.

The Affair Begins

I began my love affair with the Police when my cousin Alvaro would be playing his cassette of “Outlandos D’ Amour” and I’d sing along to “So Lonely” going “Salami, salami, salami…”

Then when Regatta De Blanc, Zenyatta Mondatta and Ghost in the Machine (the one with the red classic LCD portraits on the cover) came out, I would trust either Alvaro or my best friend Tricia’s older brothers to go out and buy the album. I’d hang out at their houses to listen to the music and sing a long and jump around to it.

By the time Synchronicity with its distinct red, yellow and blue paint motif was released here, I was able to go to Shoemart and buy my own tape. I played it over and over, grateful my cassette player never ate it up.

I never outgrew my love for those albums and as I got older I began to appreciate not just the melodies, the fusion of jazz, rock, reggae and some punk, I began to appreciate the sense of humor and poetry of the lyrics.

How can anyone forget the lines, “Do I have to tell the story of a thousand rainy days since we first met? It’s a big enough umbrella but it’s always me that ends up getting wet” (Every Little She Does is Magic)?. Or “All made up and nowhere to go, welcome to this one man show…In this theater that I call my soul, I always play the starring role.” Or “Another suburban family morning, grandmother screaming at the wall…Mother chants her litany of boredom and frustration but we know all her suicides are fake” (Synchronicity II). Their words were evocative, sticky and relatable to anyone who’s been lonely, lovelorn and introspective. Add that to some very fantastically catchy riffs and you’ll have songs that live on, attracting generations of new fans.

My S.O.S. to the World

Of course, after the Synchronicity Tour in March of 1984, the members of the Police—Sting, Andy Summers and Stewart Copeland went their separate ways. They peformed together sporadically but that seemed to be it for the band.

But magic does happen, a good 23 years later, on the 30th anniversary of their hit song, “Roxanne,” the POLICE announced a reunion tour. One year ago, they opened the Grammy Awards and on May 28, 2007 they played their first date in Vancouver.

So began months of sending email to friends abroad and going to the band’s website wondering if they were going to take their tour beyond North America and Europe--even wildly entertaining thoughts of seeing them in Dodger Stadium in Los Angeles, Red Rocks in Colorado or Madison Square Garden in New York.

Trailing them as well was my “sister” Isabelle Ramos who works for NU107. We forgot about it for a while toward the end of last year, almost giving up hope.

On the first working day of 2008, I get a call from Isabelle. She sounded like she was in some sort of panic. “Police! Police! Police!” She sounded extra frantic I was worried I had to drive out and bail her out of some trouble. After she had caught her breath, she eventually got the message out to me that the band we had tracking for close to a year was playing in Singapore and tickets were available online as we were speaking.

The dream just got within reach.

Magic, Magic, Magic

So in a stadium filled to its capacity of 10,000 people, I rocked out to the Police with Isabelle beside me. Also in the audience were other folks from the Philippines who had flown in to watch them, Filipinos living in Singapore and an entire slew of American, British, Australian, French expats and visitors. They went with their children, they went with friends, with dates, a few even went on their own.

Nearly everyone was standing up, singing along, cheering and a good number were dancing on whatever available space they could find. Everyone in sight was having the time of his or her lives.

They did eighteen songs including “Every Little Thing She Does is Magic” (a personal favorite along with “Message In a Bottle”) “Don’t Stand So Close To Me,” “Roxanne,” “Can’t Stand Losing You,” “Invisible Sun,” “King of Pain,” “So Lonely” and of course, “Every Breath You Take.”

The one song though that completely made my hair stand on end was “Wrapped Around Your Finger”—it was the 9th song they played and the way it was sung, arranged and performed made me listen to it with entirely new ears. One reason would be the brilliance in Stewart Copeland’s percussion for this particular song—there was drama it. And all of a sudden I was caught up in “seeing the destiny you sold turn into a shining band of gold” and when “I’ll be wrapped around your finger” shifted to “You’ll be wrapped around my finger” I was genuinely moved.

Considering all the bells and whistles that come along with concerts of a lot of major acts these days--extremely fancy lighting, smoke effects, pyrotechnics, special guests, costumes, changing backdrops, back up singers, back up dancers—this was one no-nonsense show. But with three acclaimed, talented, amazing musicians on stage, you don’t need anything else to floor the audience.

Andy Summers rocked the house with his fantastic guitar work as always, and I noticed the “Oh My God Who Killed Kenny?” on his guitar strap, Stewart Copeland wearing black Adidas athletic gear and a sweatband left me at a loss for words with his genius on the percussions—drums, a gong, some chimes, etc., and Sting was his usual handsome and clever self sporting a trim figure and tight muscles in a very tight black shirt and black jeans. I’m a girl, can’t help but notice these things.

After they played their last encore song, “Next to You” I slowly walked out of the stadium with my friends who also came to see the show. I’d quote their reactions but they contain expletives unfit for print. The experience was unforgettable, for two hours I had completely floated on a stretch of fan girl heaven.