When the Police first hit with "Roxanne," they were welcomed and hated by opposite camps for the same reason: making new wave accessible to Top 40 audiences. Their use of reggae elements provoked a similarly split reaction; did they co-opt and dilute the form, or were they introducing it to new listeners who might then become interested in real Jamaican riddim? (p. 42)

What everyone missed in the ensuing turmoil—and what the third Police album, Zenyatta Mondatta, continues to illustrate—is that this is a band of three extremely inventive, smooth and technically gifted musicians whose individual abilities add up to a seamless, symbiotic whole. New wave or reggae they're not, nor do they claim to be, but the Police's unique brand of pop definitely raises the level of AM (and even FM) radio several notches.

Bassist Sting is still writing catchy, reggae-inflected tunes. "Don't Stand So Close to Me" is deceptively simple, but contains tricks like a contrapuntal vocal over the chanting chorus at the end. Occasionally, as in this song, cleverness isn't enough; here, what we really want to know is what happens to the older man and the Lolita he's lusting after—and we don't find out.

Social commentary or "relevance," however, is not what the Police is about, although on this album they do try. "Driven to Tears" deals with the band's tour to Bombay, Bangkok, etc. "Too many cameras and not enough food," Sting observes, hiding his face in his hands as he declares that "protest is futile." On the next (answer?) song he decides to a discoish beat, "When the World Is Running Down, You Make the Best of What's Still Around"—which for him consists of watching James Brown in the TAMI Show movie.

Not that we should care about the Police's world view; they're too much fun to listen to. At their best, on a bouncy number like "De Do Do Do, De Da Da Da," they're catchy and creative, with a controlled way of putting sounds together. Even at their worst—the rambling throwaway "Voices Inside My Head," for example—there's always Sting's slightly raspy, wailing voice. (pp. 42-3)

As a trio, the Police can be airtight for driving rhythm or a pop feel, or loose to show off their chops. They avoid, or at least rearrange, clichés (by putting them into a new context), and they just sound so damned good. And that's the whole idea, isn't it? (p. 43)