Oh, Sting. How I love thee and thy ageless, yoga-chiseled physique. And now that I’m older and grateful for any sane voice that rises above the usual blah-blah-blah media clamor, I also relish your tireless political activism. Sure, I haven’t really liked any of your music since that weird but haunting ’80s song about the Russians loving their children too (“Mr. Krushchev said we will bury you/I don’t subscribe to that point of viiiiieeeeeeew” — love it). But there must be some reason I perk up every time I see you and Trudi on the telly.
And now, just when I though I couldn’t heart you any more, you’re bringing a whole new crew to the green scene with “the Sting,” a Martin guitar constructed almost entirely of sustainably grown and reclaimed wood. Sadly, only 100 were produced, pushing the price tag to $4,000 and instantly eliminating any influence you might have had on the 15-year-old suburban garage band set. Still, I dig that you’re finding new ways to bring eco-awareness to the music world.
But hey, why should I be surprised? Like the Russians, rock stars must love their children too.