Sting 3.0

The Englishman in Zurich - Sting without the bagpipes...

Good old Sting stopped by the Hallenstadion. He's only old on paper. But is he still good? A look inside.

The stage, which was built in the Hallenstadion for this recital, can confidently be understood as a statement: no frills anywhere. No pyrotechnics, no hydraulic lifts, nothing that could distract from the sheer performance.

And the personnel on stage is also kept to a minimum. Guitar, drums, and – as the focal point – the man who, with his headset and his constantly attentive gaze directed at the audience, seems like a likeable traveling lecturer. His name is Sting. He has sold an estimated 155 million records, won 17 Grammys, and otherwise possesses a consistently engaging personality.

The usual dynamic power poses on the microphone stand are eluded by the singer and bassist in this setting with the microphone harness attached to their heads. But the 74-year-old Sting doesn't need that. He fills the room with his presence alone.

And the doomsayers had been raising concerns beforehand: His once captivating voice could no longer deliver the high notes quite as flawlessly, they complained. And live recordings were available in which Sting intoned certain numbers from his hit program – songs like "Englishman in New York" or "Message in a Bottle" – no more fantastically than the average karaoke singer.

But the doomsayers were wrong. Sting seems to have had a good day in Zurich. While he does indeed express some difficulty in the higher register – especially towards the end of the concert – he simply tuned some of his songs down a bit as a precaution. While this results in a slight loss of fervor, and most of the music takes place within the same tonal spectrum, it's nothing that could permanently spoil your mood.

Anyone who thought the numerical value in the name of the "Sting 3.0." tour, which has been running for over a year now, referred to a future-oriented update of Sting's sound art is mistaken. "3.0" stands for the idea of emphasizing the essence and timelessness of his song catalog in a lean trio format. He announced at the start of the tour that he wanted to move out of his comfort zone, wanting to test whether his songs could withstand the reduction.

And they do. This is hardly surprising, given the songs from the Police era - the band, as we know, also consisted of just three people. Songs in which the solemnity of pop was paired with rock, a bit of reggae, and a pinch of new wave. However, the focus on the essentials has an even more healing effect on the songs Sting wrote in the post-Police era. Much of this was expanded in the studio with reverb or digital synthesizer equipment into a mannered, booming pop opulence. In this stripped-down form, these songs gain significantly in urgency (astonishingly sonically painterly: guitarist Dominic Miller; generating a great deal of dynamics: drummer Chris Maas).

Hits like "Shape of My Heart" (without the ugly harmonica) or "Fields of Gold" (without the dreadful bagpipes) become wonderful gems in the set. And the always underrated "Never Coming Home," which originally featured a very dull, would-be trip-hop beat, becomes a masterpiece with almost fusion-jazz-like harmonic twists.

So it's not just an evening of nostalgia and collective sing-alongs to radio hits. It's a trip through the almost 50-year career of this strangely ageless man, including a somewhat misplaced detour into the realms of RAI techno ("Desert Rose"). Only those who found the era in which Sting turned to Elizabethan lute music thrilling would have left with their heads hanging low.

Instead, the final bouquet features timeless hits like the catchy "Roxanne." And, of course, the frenetically acclaimed hit "Every Breath You Take," which was recently named the most-played song in radio history. Because of this, Sting is currently embroiled in a bitter legal battle with his former Police accomplices - who did not share in the royalties. And it has emerged that this sweet little love song was once the cause of violent band fights, broken ribs for Sting, and ultimately the demise of Police.

There are no such commotions this evening. The only excitement is when someone in the fully seated Hallenstadion summons the bravado to enthusiastically stand up from their seat or appear dancing next to the rows of seats. Live Nation security quickly and reprimandingly puts an end to this display of ecstasy.

What's left? Satisfied people go home with the pleasant feeling of having just been pleasantly entertained for two hours by a pleasant, rather taciturn gentleman. No less, but also no more.

(c) Tages Anzeiger by Ane Hebeisen