CD Odyssey Disc 714: The Police

I’m just home from having a lovely brunch out with our friend Andrew, followed by a “wee shop” downtown, as Sheila and I like to call it. This time we bought a bunch of books and graphic novels. My main score was “The Last Temptation” graphic novel by Neil Gaiman and featuring Alice Cooper. I recently found out this book existed when reviewing Cooper’s album of the same name back at Disc 710.

I’ve reviewed 23 Alice Cooper albums, but this next artist somehow escaped being randomly selected entirely until now.

Disc 714 is…. Synchronicity

Artist: The Police

Year of Release: 1983

What’s up with the Cover? A bunch of pretentious crap. Among the pretentions explored: “Look I can play a harp!” “Behold, as I contemplate death by way of this laboratory skeleton!” and “I’m a hard-boiled phone operator – you can tell I’m cool because I’m wearing aviators.” Recognizing it still wasn’t self-absorbed enough, stripes of colour are then smeared across each section in what I believe is intended to be art.

Get over yourselves, guys – and shortly after this was released, they did. Except for Sting; he’s never gotten over himself.

How I Came To Know It: This album was so huge in 1983 there was no way I couldn’t come to know it. It was played at all sorts of parties, etc. Back then I hated the Police but through a slow rehabilitative process, Sheila has shown me the error of my ways and now I love them. Please remember that I love them as you read the latter part of this review.

How It Stacks Up:  I may now love the Police but I don’t love “Synchronicity.” We have five Police albums, which is all of them. I put “Synchronicity” in last place on that list.

Rating: 3 stars

If “Synchronicity” were a professional sports franchise it would be the one with a few overpaid stars and very little depth through the lineup. Let’s call this team the “Dallas Cowboys” since everyone thinks the Cowboys are cooler than they are, much like everyone thinks “Synchronicity” is better than it is.

This is not to say this record does not have great songs – it has some absolute classics, which is why the whole album graded out at a respectable 3 stars. It is too bad that you are halfway through the album before you get to any of them.

The good stuff begins with “Synchronicity II” at Track 6 (or the last song on Side One for you traditional types). Unlike the album’s opening track, “Synchronicity,” which has that signature Police rhythm but is largely forgettable after that, “Synchronicity II” is a real achievement. From Sting’s high vocal ‘oh-oh-ohs’ to the unforgettable walk-down guitar hook of Andy Summer that makes the song so damned irresistible, this is a fun song that gets better with repeat listens.

Side Two opens with one of pop music’s great songs, “Every Breath You Take.” “Every Breath…” is one of those songs that you can name within hearing the first few notes. It has a beautiful rolling-quality that feels like floating in the sea, or twirling through a dream, or twirling through a dream about floating in the sea. You get the idea. This song is a bit “stalky” but it somehow makes unhealthy obsession feel like a deep and abiding love, rather than the restraining order vibe that such attitudes will earn you in the real world.

“King of Pain” and “Wrapped Around Your Finger” round out the album’s stars with another two ethereal tracks that capture the best qualities of early (better) Police albums. These songs ably round off the edges of groovy drum beats and reggae/new wave combinations and make it all generally more palatable to a larger audience. Moreover they do this without wrecking themselves or losing their edge in the process. No wonder this record was so huge in 1983 – these four songs are all classics.

What people rarely talk about (but I am now going to) is how the rest of the album is an overwritten mess of disparate ideas and unchecked ego.

Sting is the main villain in our piece, if for no other reason than he writes most of the songs. The two exceptions are Stuart Copeland’s ambling and pointless “Miss Gradenko” and the truly risible combination of eastern rhythms and shouting that is Andy Summers’ “Mother.” Hey Andy – I don’t give a shit if that’s your mother is on the phone. Stop shouting in my earholes.

Sting’s crimes are much more advanced, as he begins to fully explore the jazzercising dip-shittery that he will later commit to full time in his solo career. At this stage his solo career is still lurking just out of sight, like an ancient Lovecraftian god preparing to rise from the depths and devour us all. “Synchronicity” is the harbinger of the doom that is to come. “Oh My God,” “Tea in the Sahara” and “Murder by Numbers” are all examples of Sting’s interest in fusing jazz to pop music using the overheated glue of his own ego, while trying – and failing – to be deep and relevant.

And I would be remiss not to also mention “Walking in Your Footsteps,” which sounds like theme music from the computer version of Sid Meier’s Civilization. I always turn the music off when I play Civilization.

There are four really great songs on this album, and I already knew all of them from years of radio play. Their brilliance made my disappointment with the rest of the album so much deeper. It is great to have such flashes of brilliance, but you’ll never win a championship with that kind of inconsistency.

Best tracks: Synchronicity II, Every Breath You Take, King of Pain, Wrapped Around Your Finger