Police and an inspiring trip down memory lane

I was crazy about Police when I was a teenager. I am talking about the music group – not the men in uniform. My brother and I had a 7” vinyl of Police’s collected hits. I dug it out just now for old time’s sake. I wish I could play it. Do you remember lifting the needle, swinging it across the LP with the edge of your index finger and then gently lowering it down? There was something mesmerising about the way the needle floated over the slight undulations in the vinyl, sliding quickly along to the first cut and making that distinctive crackly, grainy sound before the music began.

I loved Police. Was their music rock or reggae? A bit of both I suppose. Whatever it was, it captivated me. Walking on the Moon was just SO cool. And how could a band of just three be that effective? I wanted the whole world to know that I listened to Police. Perhaps I would become cool by association. I can remember waiting tensely for the neighbours’ daughter to come riding home from Arundel School so that I belt out De doo doo doo, De da da da at top volume whilst she pedalled down our cul de sac. We had a Supersonic record player in those days. Remember them?

I listened to Invisible Sun for the first time on the Radio 3 Top Ten Hit Parade. My brother and I used to borrow my Dad’s little portable radio. It was called a Darling radio. I kid you not. Initially, my dad bought it for use during guard duty when the war was still on. Either my brother or I – I can’t remember whom – dropped it in the bath one evening. Hoping to avoid having to own up, we secretly tried to dry it in the oven. Unfortunately we set the temperature too high. The case of our little Darling melted. It still worked, but from then on adjusting the knobs was a challenge.

Anyway, I digress. I WAS talking about Invisible Sun. The black and white music video features footage from Northern Ireland. People walk through driving rain and soldiers patrol against a forlorn backdrop of derelict buildings. A tiny boy in an anorak with the hood up runs alongside an armoured troop carrier and spits defiantly on it before letting fly with a rock. The question behind the lyrics seems to be, “how do you cope with life in a miserable, war-torn world?” Indeed, whilst the song was being recorded, Stewart Copeland’s hometown of Beirut was being bombed to rubble.

Invisible Sun

Police came up with a poignant answer to their question. In the chorus, they sing:

There has to be an invisible sun
It gives its heat to everyone
There has to be an invisible sun
That gives us hope when the whole day's done

As a teenager, I remember being sobered to discover that even my cool heroes were crying out for something to pin their hopes on. And it seems to be the same for every generation. Take these words from Somewhere I Belong by Linkin Park:

I wanna heal, I wanna feel what I thought was never real
I wanna let go of the pain I’ve felt so long
I wanna heal, I wanna feel like I’m close to something real
I wanna find something I’ve wanted all along

Somewhere I belong

I guess I will never get the chance to tell Police that there is an “invisible sun” or to show Linkin Park where they could belong. Many would think I am arrogant because I claim to have the answer. But they aren’t my answers. And if you know the answer, you owe it to God and others to love with the warmth of the “invisible sun” and to live like there IS “something real”. People need healing and reality. They want “hope when the whole day’s done”.

Will you point them in the right direction?

Cheers for now - Ian