Synchronicity (The Police)

With a career as fiery and ephemeral as a radioactive isotope, it only took The Police a little more than half a decade to leave a lasting impression on pop music. From as early as 1980 onwards, beginning with Zenyatta Mondatta, their records’ quality had quickly escalated, which ultimately lead them to this refined final effort; their sole album released two years after its predecessor, and the one where they’d find the long sought balance between the panoply of all their past influences.

Three quarters of its singles had been spawned from the vinyl’s B-side alone. Nevertheless, by no means that should imply its first half is missing interesting material. For instance, as a single, the first version of the title-track could have worked just as fine as the second did. Besides, although songs like the sparky “Miss Gradenko” or the soothing “Walking In Your Footsteps” do lack a greater radio-friendly appeal, they still are compelling compositions, especially considering the whole album.

The whole: its cohesion is exactly its most fascinating characteristic. Clockwork-crafted, everything is to the point: from the avant-garde inspired cover art to the apparently dateless sound design and the songs themselves, this long-play has a pleasing aesthetic. Even the appalling Freudian weirdness of “Mother” fell in place with the other tunes, notwithstanding the fact the British trio could have opted for the much saner “Murder By Numbers” as a replacement.

The Police had topped off their career with this album. Unfortunately, however, there wouldn’t be another one, as the band failed to endure the internal ego conflicts they had been struggling against. This was an appropriate ending, at least, and to this day it works as a good showcase for some of the group’s strengths: fierce statements, mesmeric rhythms, ethereal lukewarm ska beats, elegant ballads. Being the portrayer of a sophisticated pop sensitivity, Synchronicity managed to keep its charming aura through the test of time.