Sting: The Sound of a Finale...

Well, this afternoon, we were wondering: when was the last time it rained on a festival night? Well, maybe it's better not to remember. And consider that if there's rain, it might as well be stars. Things are better now. Sting can rain on the Grand Théâtre de la Cité as long as the sky wants. But before the father, let's devote a few drops of ink to the son and his band Fiction Plane, which Dad, he would have been wrong to deprive himself of, had the good idea of putting on tour. As the opening act, Joe, offspring of Gordon (Sting's real first name), proved beyond doubt that if talent isn't inherited, there is at least a certain gift for music, which can surely be explained by having been immersed in it as a child. It's not just anyone who can be Mozart, and neither is Sting, for that matter, but let's admit that the offspring is good. In any case, he has a voice, humour, and a sense of audience. Punctual as an Airbus (are we wrong?), Fiction Plane immediately delivers its Keane and Coldplay-style UK pop, then practically veers into Red Hot Chili Peppers at the end. Between two "Allez les bleus" (Allez les bleus), we're treated to some very beautiful bursts, including a good five minutes of psychedelia. Three-quarters of an hour of concert that still feels like three-quarters of an hour. Especially since if we're here, it's for Dad.

Sting arrives without warning and launches straight into "Message in a Bottle." No warm-up, the guy is right into the game like in the good old days, maybe a little less bouncy, but damn near there. Sting is like grapefruit juice on a hot day. We spend happy minutes with him on 'If I Ever Lose My Faith In You'. If I ever lose my faith in you... It's not likely. He announces the score of the match in French before leading the audience into 'Walking on the Moon'. 1-0, and we sing along in the stands. 'An Englishman in New York' and the Grand Théâtre chants: "We won, we won!"

Seeing him so close, we're reminded that Sting is a great musician: his 'Driven to Tears' is a great, groovy, tranquil river. No frills, just touch, sound. It seems so simple. Everything he does is magic...

(c) La Dépêche du Midi by Pascal Charras