Listening to: Sting. Fields of Gold.
Photo: St. Clouds restaurant. Seattle
I’ve been reading about “The Last Ship,” a show on Broadway for which Sting wrote the music and lyrics and that I’d like to see. (No idea how or when, since I sit on the other side of the country. But.) The story is kind of a downer and the production got mixed reviews. So, popular it isn’t, as Yoda would say.
To keep the show alive, Sting has announced that he will join the cast.
The New York Times calls this “one of the boldest gambles in many a theater season,” which seems like a create-conflict-make-news exaggeration. How risky is it to put Sting on stage singing his own songs? Granted, the last time he appeared in a Broadway musical was Threepenny Opera in 1989, and the reviews were terrible. Still, it’s Sting. And we’ve seen this strategy work before. When Billie Joe Armstrong joined the cast of “American Idiot,” ticket sales more than doubled. (But when Armstrong left, the box office numbers dropped.)
If I weren’t 3000 miles away, I’d definitely buy a ticket to see/hear Sting in “The Last Ship.” But since I can’t, the best I can do is watch from afar and follow what happens when he joins the cast on December 9.
I’ve ordered Marvel Comics: 75 Years of Cover Art from the Seattle Public Library. My friend Manu sent me a link to a blurb (that the WSJ won’t let me access without a subscription) that focuses on Alan Cowsill’s forward in which he discusses “the groundbreaking approach that allowed [Marvel] to humanize its superheroes.”
Who wouldn’t want to read that?
About a month ago, I wrote about Elliot Smith and my love of Sad Songs. And I said that I would post my sketch for a song called “We’ll dance like we never met.” I’m still wrestling with the dance in the middle, and today I decided I don’t like the intro. But here are the bones of a verse.