Sting: what happened when the bard questioned the importance of music

Interview, August, 2003 by Ingrid Sischy

BY INGRID SISCHY

INGRID SISCHY: [On the phone in New York CityJ Good morning, Sting, how are you?

STING: [Speaking from Britain] I'm very well. It must be very early for you.

IS: It is, but it's good to talk to you. You have a lot going on these days--a performance special on A&E, which premieres October 3; a related DVD, which is being released just afterward; and a new record, Sacred Love [A&M]. It demonstrates just how experimental you are. There are lots and lots of ideas in it. How long did this one take?

S: All told, about a year.

IS: And a lifetime, right?

S: A year and a lifetime, yeah. It was a strange year, a time when artists had to sort out and redefine what we were doing and who we were and what use we served. I haven't found the answers, but it certainly was a moment for asking those questions.

IS: Had they been coming up for you before September 11, 2001?

I suppose so, but I really think that that moment was kind of watershed for all of us, where we really were in shock. In deep shock- and it makes everybody reconsider their lives, you know, and I think artists are a bit like canaries in a coal mine, in that we're supposed to be more sensitive. I think questions like "What is my function?" and "What am I doing here?" are healthy ones. I suppose that if I do have an answer it's about finding out what the truth is and making it beautiful for people to listen to.

IS: How do you begin writing an album?

S: I tend to put the hours in. People more talented than me can maybe get up every morning and create a masterwork, but I can't--I really have to work. But it's work that I love. I clock on at 10 in the morning and I'll sit at a keyboard or with a guitar or a typewriter or a computer. Then when I've got a kernel of an idea, I'll bring in a colleague and bounce ideas off of him.

IS: Does your life tend to follow a prescribed pattern, from the writing of a record through the touring associated with promoting it?

S: Well, I typically tour for two years after a record comes out. It takes that long to get around the world--to do Australia, Japan, North America, South America. And in that time I do very little thinking, [laughs] which is really good. Your life is so regimented--they just tell you where you're going, what you're doing, when you're going to eat, and when you're going to go onstage. Then, at the end of the two years, I come home and I have to debrief myself and get used to being in one place, which is difficult. And then I'm forced to think, and to figure out what I've learned, who I am, why I'm doing it, and if it's any use to anybody. From that anxiety, that vacuum, I trust or I hope that something will come out if I do the work. So that's a year. With the new album, I have the luxury of having six to nine months to prepare for my tour and that's what I'm doing at the moment, plus being the head of a large family and all of that responsibility.

IS: How many again?

S: I have six children--three sons and three daughters. And I have six dogs. Very balanced.

IS: Listening to your record I had the sense sometimes that there was a huge amount you were trying to say with each line--as if there were torrents of words coming out.

S: There's an urgency to the making of a record and to getting this stuff out. With this album I remember feeling anxiety, anger, fear, love, wanting to put the world right through the only medium I have, so it just came out as this stream of consciousness. I'm glad you noticed that.

IS: I've always picked up on your very particular pacing because I think it's something that you own. What does it feel like when you're trying to get all that in?

S: Well, it's always pretty exhilarating to be singing. For me it's a bit like flying--you can soar like a bird and swoop and rise and fall. But to be singing this torrent of ideas is particularly exhilarating, and exhausting, I suppose.

IS: Do you think the yoga helps? 5: You mean vocally?

IS: Yeah.

S: You know, I've done yoga for 12 years and I think it's increased my lung capacity; I can sing long notes for long periods of time better than I ever could, so maybe it's a function of that. [laughs] I never thought of it, actually.

IS: Let's talk about some of the songs on this new record, such as "Forget About the Future," which has a great, nostalgic Big Band-radio ending.

S: Right. A lot of us, including me, get trapped in the past.. We simply can't get out of the loop that your grandpappy insulted mine, or this land is mine and not yours, or you're worshiping the wrong god, or God looks like me and not you. I'm trying to be ironic and say, "Maybe this isn't the way.

IS: I know you read a lot, and in this record you bury these little references to literature and poetry in your lyrics. It's fun to hear those classic English verses recontextualized in your writing, which, for example, is what happens on the song "Beautiful Smile."

S: I love to look at those poems and see if I can pluck something and put it in a different context and bring it to life for myself and maybe for somebody who's never heard it before. With that song I remember I was sitting in my house thinking, What is this song about? I took this book of Shakespeare sonnets off the shelf and opened it at random and there was this sonnet--I think it's number 18 ["Shall I compare thee to a summer's day'?"I--and I started to sing it, and it seemed to work.