Arrested by the police...

Sting, Andy Summers, and Stewart Copeland thrill 13,500 fans at Mannheim's SAP Arena - and set the attendance record.

It was the concert of the year - 2007. But due to the eight-month postponement of the Police's performance at Mannheim's SAP Arena due to illness, the air has somehow gone out of the air before the rescheduled date. Of the few hundred returned tickets, some are even available right up until the very last minute – truly incredible for a tour that usually takes place in football stadiums, sold out incredibly quickly, and, with estimated revenues of $340 million, will likely be one of the most successful in rock history.

Of course, the arena is ultimately completely full; thanks to the small stage, 13,500 spectators even break Bruce Springsteen's concert attendance record, and any remaining faintheartedness evaporates when a mighty gong from drummer Stewart Copeland opens the concert and Andy Summers launches into the unmistakable riff of 'Message in the Bottle'. With Sting's appearance, the cheers almost explode - although his unusual Papa Smurf beard causes a small moment of shock.

The 56-year-old may look old, but his figure-hugging clothing reveals how fit he is. Vocally, the leader of the band, which reformed in 2007, also delivers a confident performance – albeit usually a good bit lower than 30 years ago. From 1977 to 1983, The Police wrote as many superhits as only the greats like the Beatles, Rolling Stones, and Elvis – and evolved from a punk band with a penchant for reggae and ska rhythms to a trio stylistically open to all genres, capable of producing chart-topping pop in spades without sacrificing their musical standards.

How high this standard is best demonstrated by the still infernal Copeland (55), whose powerful playing would have to be measured on the Richter scale, but who nevertheless remains one of the drummers with the best sense of timing and nuance. This is especially evident in the percussion parts, which give songs like "Wrapped Around Your Finger"—even with vibraphone—or "King Of Pain" a new face. The 65-year-old Summers' guitar solos are also a poem—precisely measured, virtuosic, yet powerful and sensitive at the same time.

The difficult balancing act between artistic self-realization and serving the expensive customer, who prefers to hear the "Greatest Hits" in their purest form, succeeds almost perfectly: The Police enjoyably celebrate even more obscure songs like "Demolition Man" or "Hole In My Life," which they cushion with hit ballads like "Don't Stand So Close To Me" or "Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic." They, in turn, impose minor arrangement changes, mostly in terms of tempo – this gives the lighter, catchy tunes an edge that creates excitement and that evergreens like "Roxanne" or "So Lonely" don't need.

But the most spectacular aspect of this evening isn't the sophisticated concert dramaturgy, but the sheer power that The Police unleash again and again at will – and they do so virtually without blue lights, using the simplest rock tools: three musicians on a comparatively small stage, visible from all sides, minimal visual effects, often with the hall lights still on – no arena act presents itself more "naked." This purist approach is symbolized by Sting's completely worn Fender Telecaster bass – rare, expensive, and powerful in sound. The promise of eternal youth as a recipe for rock success is always present. Nevertheless, Sting sings "I guess this is our last Goodbye" ('I Can't Stand Losing You') – if he really means that final "goodbye," the loss would indeed be difficult to bear.

(c) Mannheimer Morgen by Jörg-Peter Klotz