Let's start off simply: If the only things you know about Sting are that he played bass for The Police, he personally endorses Tantra and he never seems to age, well you'd still know zip about him and that's just the way he likes it.
There's no question that by the time he got around to his fourth solo album, Sting was already a world-wide superstar, but fame didn't stop him from getting a little personal with his fans. The result is Ten Summoner's Tales, a highly intellectual concept album of funny and poignant allegories and parables, intended to give his audience a greater understanding of the man behind some of pop music's biggest hits.
When examining Sting apparently, one must be prepared to encounter trickery and hubris. The album's title, for instance, is a bit of self-referential magic: though it is a direct reference to one of Geoffrey Chaucer's short stories from The Canterbury Tales, it's also a pun intended to evoke the singer's real name, Gordon Sumner.
Another ruse: the album is actually comprised of 12 tracks, not the implied 10, although that is simply due to an added preface and epilogue. Sting's story begins with a nervous admission, that he's lost his faith in science, progress, the church, his sense of direction, politicians and the military, but his biggest fear is in losing faith in his audience. "If I ever lose my faith in you, there'd be nothing left to do," he repeats.
There is a weird lack of cohesion to the rest of the album, making it feel less conceptual and more traditional, but I think that's a natural part of anyone's autobiographical process. Repeated listenings, however, create the sense that you're one step closer to understanding the man's approach to love, mortality and religion - almost as if the prologue is his mission statement and the rest of the album is simply an attempt at exorcising some major demons.
Over the next few songs, Sting leads the listener on a tale of a romantic conquest, complete with a valiant effort at courtship ("Fields of Gold,") disappointed rejection ("Heavy Cloud No Rain,") cautious optimism ("Seven Days,") and burning desire ("Saint Augustine in Hell.")Eventually, he gets the girl, but it's apparently bittersweet; "you're not the easiest person I ever got to know, and it's hard for us both to let our feelings show," he sings on "It's Probably Me."
In the album's third act, Sting's narrator matures a bit and offers a sober explanation for his conflicted lover ("Shape of My Heart") and finally a bit of fear toward the unknown, painting a dark story about a band of soldiers who ignore the threat of death and end up paying the ultimate price ("Something The Boy Said.")
Sting uses the epilogue to summarize his previous 11 songs and laughingly taunt the audience with a chant that they still know nothing about him, this bold move captures his playful side and acts as a mechanism for detachment that allows him to maintain the appearance that he's still a mysterious rock star.
It's a comical end to a spirited album, but its tone feels realistic and true to one clear message shared by the rest of the previous tall tales: the only solution to a healthy fear of the future is love, even if it's awkward, slow to start and hard to define.
