On the spur of the moment, we bought tickets for tonight’s Sting concert at Königsplatz. How was it? Read on…
Though it had been raining all day, the clouds broke 15 minutes before we had to walk over to Königsplatz, which we took as a good sign for the evening. Even the Generic Opening Band (you know, typical hippie-ish woman-fronted band that left less of an impression on me than my ass does in the couch) was… well.. they were quick. And we were able to get a beer from one of the beer dispenser – a guy with a keg of beer strapped to his back. Becks supplied the beer as well as the dozens of mobile vendors, similar to how a local wine merchant supplied the white wine via portable back-strapped kegs. But enough with the weather, the opening band and the refreshments. On to the show.
Foreplay, like Tantric Sex.
Sting came on promptly at 8:30 and launched into one of his more new-agey songs, followed by another, and another. Then he greeted the crowd, introduced the band, and welcomed us all to the show… in German, which was a nice touch.
More Foreplay, again, like Tantric Sex.
Sting then launched into song after song. How many songs? I’m not sure. His songs were not really distinct – one ran into a jam session that ran into another song that ran into a jam session that ran into another song. I mean, musically the composition of the music was fantastic, the players – especially the keyboardist – were outstanding, and the electronic show complimented the music perfectly.
Getting Excited Yet?
After about 45 minutes of playing music that really didn’t seem to get anyone really hot and bothered, Sting launched into Roxanne, the classic The Police song that everyone loves. The crowd was jumping… then suddenly it was little black spot… then… wait a second… he turned Roxanne into a The Police medley ?!? Wait now, it’s a jam session. No, now he is just saying Roxanne over and over and over and over and over.
And over.
And over.
Nope, Still Foreplay.
Back into another 30 minutes of middle-of-the-road ultra-safe music. Whatever edge he had when he was in The Police was gone. Though technically he was interesting, musically, it was just blah-blah-blah.
Are we going to climax any time soon?
Like the Tantric Sex that Sting is a proponent of, the concert seemed to go on and on and on but never really hit a high point. Even when he sang “I’ll Be Watching You” as part of his first encore, it felt like he was holding back, and when he came on for his second encore set, we decided that it would be better to hear it from the street as we walked the few blocks back to our house.
Just give me what I want, damnit!
After the concert was over, I realised that the only songs anyone responded to were his famous ones – especially The Police songs – but they were few and far between. In fact, for most of the concert, people seemed slightly detached – not disrespectfully so, but they seemed to be at times bored of what was going on. I know we were.
Was it good for you?
Am I happy we went to the concert? Well, I’m glad we were able to spend a few hours in the fresh air, and the music was palatable. If I knew it would be this lukewarm, would I have bought the ticket? Probably not.
Sting? More like Stung.
