Feb 01, 1996
A magnificent country house deep in the English shires and an informal lunch is served at the kitchen table. Sitting at its head, he seems an unlikely architect of controversy, this father of six who cradles his baby son and listens as wife Trudie Styler and guests chat of films, farming and football. But if almost two decades on the world stage have taught Sting anything, it is that there is no point in being surprised when the press or public rise up in indignation against you...
Feb 01, 1996
Rock's Bach: Intellectual, earthy, egotistical, introspective, enigmatic, and environmentally obsessed are just some of the terms of endearment that have been flung Sting's way in the seventeen years he's been working at the high-risk job of making popular music. But the Police's former chief is nothing if not a man stretched between the poles of his public personae. His sixth solo album, 'Mercury Falling' (A&M), is, as might be expected from this urstylist, a mosaic of musical styles. Less predictable, though, is the reconciled tone of the record, which offers telling clues that Sting's current existence as rock'n'roll paterfamilias - albeit one who practices yoga - is wearing well on him. Even a heartbreaking song about an impending divorce, 'I'm So Happy I Can't Stop Crying', is infectiously upbeat. And though, for the first time, he appears to be creating music in a conflict-free zone, he's far from complacent. We met during a break between the European and American segments of his latest tour at his New York apartment, over a ridiculously healthy lunch...
Jan 05, 1996
The musician Sting was on tour in Mexico when his wife, actress and film producer Trudie Styler, called to tell him that she had found the perfect house. "He asked if I liked it," Styler remembers. "I told him I loved it. He asked why I wanted to buy it. I gave him a lot of reasons. There was silence. Then I told him that there was a 350-year-old tree in the garden. 'Buy it,' was the quick reply..."
Dec 01, 1995
Sting has been stung by the yoga bug - and his life will never be the same... I was first introduced to Sting in early 1993 by my close friend Danny Paradise, a leading teacher and world traveling Yogi-musician. Sting and his wife Trudie came to the first time to White Lotus in Santa Barbara late one night after a 'Ten Summoner's Tales' concert in Los Angeles to spend a couple of days and to meet some of my friends visiting from the South American rainforest. Our friendship grew out of our mutual love of Yoga and nature...
Nov 02, 1995
Welcome to the grand opening of the Mr. Showbiz Celebrity Lounge. Our guest today is Sting, the world-famous singer, songwriter, musician, actor, and environmentalist. Sting's latest project is the CD-ROM 'All This Time', a multimedia exploration of his music, background, creative influences, and personal interests. Below, you may post questions you would like to ask Sting; our moderator will select the best of your questions for Sting's consideration. Now, ladies and gentleman, we bring you Sting...
Feb 01, 1995
Is it time Sting was forgiven? The unshaven, unworried rock aristocrat strolls the borders of his sumptuous Jacobean pile funded by a decade of vastly successful solo artistry. His enemies are few - the apocalyptic brigade, a touch of premature deafness and a phlegmatic British press unable to cope with his penchant for the selfless gesture. "You're pointing at the moon but people are looking at your finger..."
Jan 02, 1995
It is the biggest dilemma in the caring career of Pop's Very Own Captain Conscience. Sun City: should I stay or should I go? Sting visits the confusing, garish game park-cum-human hellhole that is the new South Africa. "Bewildered" is the word we're using. "Confused" and "nonplussed" are jockeying for position. And, when a few drinks have been taken, "guilty" comes stealing up on the inside rail. Sting is in South Africa. Sun City to be precise. As in "I-yi-yi-yi-yi-yi ain't gonna play Sun City..."
Dec 02, 1994
Gentleman's Agreement: Sting dreams a world without junk. "In The Police he was a pop star, the best we've had, a potent force delivering blistering reggae-tinged chart-friendly hits apparently to order." That's the new Q on Sting, delivering Britain's attitude about its homeboy. Here, he came across as the lead blond of a fluffy threesome who successfully crafted themselves into heavy new-wavers with AOR cred, and by the time he went solo he was a guaranteed rock-mag cover. He had attempted the oddest new career - jazz, don't you know - with music that, in retrospect, unfolds like a single piece of steel, ignoring orthodoxy yet achieving the field's flexibility and no hot-tub vapor, laughing in the face of rock yet getting on more different sets of nerves than most punks ever manage, skipping pop rules yet selling millions, admitting in public to a yen for Mozart...
Dec 01, 1994
The role of renaissance bloke: It's 10am on a Saturday at Drapers Brothers Dry Cleaners, and Dougie and Don Draper are preparing for the weekend rush when the door clatters open and in comes a Mr Sting. "I was just wondering if you could clean this donkey jacket, like," he says in rich, Newcastle Brown tones, shrugging out of the garment in question. Dougie D (maroon slacks, fawn cardie, pervert scoutmaster-style nylon wig in a worrying shade of lemon) duly ingratiates himself, customer care skills to the fore. "No problem at all," he oozes. Meanwhile Don D (two-tone overall, spectacles, pervert woodwork teacher-style nylon wig in a worrying shade of chestnut brown) is anticipating a visit to the theatre to see American illusionist David Copperfield. "Every little thing he does is magic," he sings repeatedly...
Nov 01, 1994
Sting has lately reasserted himself as a musician, and won a roomful of awards. Now he is releasing his greatest hits. He gave Nicholas Barber a guided tour of 10 years' work. "Sting's house, please." That's all you have to say to taxi drivers at Salisbury station. No need for directions or addresses, they know where Gordon Matthew Sumner lives. And does the local rock god ever descend to town, I ask the driver as we make the nine-mile journey. "Occasionally," he says. "We see his wife Trudie (Styler) more often, and the kids and the nanny. But Sting, he's a busy man, isn't he...?"