The 500 - #369 - Louder Than Bombs - The Smiths

I was inspired by a podcast called The 500 hosted by Los Angeles-based comedian Josh Adam Meyers. His goal, and mine, is to explore Rolling Stone Magazine's 2012 edition of The 500 Greatest Albums of All Time. 

The 500 - #370 - Mott - Mott The Hoople

I was inspired by a podcast called The 500 hosted by Los Angeles-based comedian Josh Adam Meyers. His goal, and mine, is to explore Rolling Stone Magazine's 2012 edition of The 500 Greatest Albums of All Time. 

The 500 - #371 - Whatever People Say I Am, That's What I'm Not - Arctic Monkeys

I was inspired by a podcast called The 500 hosted by Los Angeles-based comedian Josh Adam Meyers. His goal, and mine, is to explore Rolling Stone Magazine's 2012 edition of The 500 Greatest Albums of All Time. 

The 500 - 372 - Reggatta de Blanc - The Police

I was inspired by a podcast called The 500 hosted by Los Angeles-based comedian Josh Adam Meyers. His goal, and mine, is to explore Rolling Stone Magazine's 2012 edition of The 500 Greatest Albums of All Time. 

Album # 372

Album Title: Reggatta de Blanc 
Artist: The Police

Genre: New Wave, Reggae Rock, White Reggae, Post Punk
Recorded: Surrey Sound, England
Released: October, 1979
My age at release: 14
How familiar was I with it before this week: Very
Song I am putting on my Spotify Playlist: The Bed's Too Big Without You

One year ago, in May, 2020, I wrote about the 1978 debut record by The Police, Outlandos D'Amour. Four months prior to that, in January, I shared a personal connection to their final release, Synchronicity. 

This record, 1979's Reggatta de Blanc, is the sophomore release by the English New Wave/Reggae Rock trio. Despite the demands of a busy tour schedule, it hit the market less than a year after Outlandos. Drummer Stewart Copeland credits the speed of its production to the absence of any pressure from the music industry. As he put it:

"We just went into the studio and said, 'Right, who's got the first song?' We hadn't even rehearsed them, before we went in."

The title loosely translates from French to "White Reggae" -- two words that, in combination, have increasingly become an anathema in contemporary society. There are many who might rebuke their sound as the "cultural appropriation" of Caribbean music. However, I reject that hypothesis. Indeed, it was The Police, The Clash and, to a lesser extent, Eric Clapton who were the bridge that led me to my love of reggae.

The Police (1979) Andy Summers, Sting & Stewart Copeland (l-r) 

The 2011 BBC documentary Reggae Britannia went a step further, suggesting that in the mid-70s: 

"Reggae was vital in mending the rift between black and white youth (in the UK) as it merged with punk rock and cross-pollinated the charts."

Promotional Photo for Reggae Britannia

Sting, bassist and vocalist of The Police, also dismisses these spurious assertions from "woke" critics, many of whom were not even alive when Reggatta de Blanc was released. In 2018, he shared the following:

"Cultural appropriation is such an ugly term. For me, reggae is something I respect and value, and take seriously, It is something I have learned from."

I prepared for this post by listening to Regatta de Blanc in its entirety, which led me down a Police rabbit hole and, this week, I listened through their entire catalogue. I was transported to a time when White Reggae regularly blared from the headphones strapped to my portable Sanyo cassette player.

Sanyo Cassette Player (similar to my 80s model)

The Police only released five studio records between 1978 and 1983, covering the time between my 13th and 18th birthdays. In the early 80s, that felt like a lifetime, and in relative terms I suppose it was. Five years is more than a quarter of your life at 18. It was a halcyon time -- I had security, few responsibilities and a pocketful of disposable income from my many part-time gigs. 

I selected the track The Bed's Too Big Without You for 500 Spotify Playlist. It has a special meaning because my wife says those words every time we are separated. 

Over the past few weeks of distance learning with my class, I have been working from our cottage because the WiFi signal is more reliable. Consequently, when we talk each evening, she often signs off with those words.

Thanks for reading. We'll make our final check-in with The Police at #323 on The 500 in about a year. The record is Ghost In The Machine (1981), but I plan on talking more about my favourite Police album, Zenyatta Mondatta, which I received for Christmas, 1980...from my mom.