Saturday, July 07, 2007
They're Not Actually in Law Enforcement
So The Police played at Wrigley Field the past two nights, and since I live less than a block from there, I was able to steal some free music from my rooftop. I'm not going to pretend to be their most knowledgeable fan; I probably couldn't even pick the guys who aren't Sting out of a lineup, much less actually know their names. I did think they had some pretty good jams, when Puff Daddy wasn't screaming over them, however, and I always thought they had great hair, so I decided to check them out. I even had an impromptu party for the occasion, with "impromptu" meaning A) I mainly just invited people from the cab on my way home for the party, and B) I didn't bother to get more than a case of beer. It turns out a lot of other people on my block had the same idea, though; I haven't seen so many 40-year-olds having parties since the season finale of Everybody Loves Raymond.
But anyway, it turned out to be a pretty good concert. Since they all pretty much hate each other, there wasn't any danger of them popping up with any unfortunate "new material." They basically just played the hits and got out of there. The vocals sounded pretty much the way I remembered them, although I was admittedly probably much more focused on the latest album from the Muppets at the time these songs all came out. The set was only about an hour and a half long, likely because Sting needs to devote ten hours each day to tantric orgasms, but rather enjoyable. Now if we could only get Wham to reunite.
So The Police played at Wrigley Field the past two nights, and since I live less than a block from there, I was able to steal some free music from my rooftop. I'm not going to pretend to be their most knowledgeable fan; I probably couldn't even pick the guys who aren't Sting out of a lineup, much less actually know their names. I did think they had some pretty good jams, when Puff Daddy wasn't screaming over them, however, and I always thought they had great hair, so I decided to check them out. I even had an impromptu party for the occasion, with "impromptu" meaning A) I mainly just invited people from the cab on my way home for the party, and B) I didn't bother to get more than a case of beer. It turns out a lot of other people on my block had the same idea, though; I haven't seen so many 40-year-olds having parties since the season finale of Everybody Loves Raymond.
But anyway, it turned out to be a pretty good concert. Since they all pretty much hate each other, there wasn't any danger of them popping up with any unfortunate "new material." They basically just played the hits and got out of there. The vocals sounded pretty much the way I remembered them, although I was admittedly probably much more focused on the latest album from the Muppets at the time these songs all came out. The set was only about an hour and a half long, likely because Sting needs to devote ten hours each day to tantric orgasms, but rather enjoyable. Now if we could only get Wham to reunite.
