Andy Summers - XYZ

MCA Records

I frequently find myself to be at a loss for words in attempts to truly capture the banality of much of the music the 1980s has given us, and the solo work of guitarist Andy Summers is, unfortunately, no exception. 

Of the few songs he had penned during his tenure with The Police, I've only ever been repeatedly drawn to one--1983's "Mother". I am fascinated moreso by the haunting, blood-curdling vocal performance present on the piece than its Freudian lyrical content, but either way, it successfully functions as one of the most interesting compositions the band has ever put out. 

But The Police weren't Summers' sole source of musical output. He cut his teeth playing through the latter half of the sixties with Dantalian's Chariot, forgotten Canterbury sceners Soft Machine, and, once, Eric Burdon & The Animals. Between leaving The Police and prior to going solo, Summers also collaborated twice with Robert Fripp in the early '80s. You'd think a man with chops like that would be the last person to fall in line with the lackluster conventions of '80s A.O.R. pitfalls, but there's always room for surprises. 

If you've heard an album's worth of Police songs, then you'll be all too familiar with the musical paths that "XYZ" treads. It is overly technological to the point of being hackneyed drivel, and Summers delivers every last lyric in a sangfroid tone lifted from Mark Knopfler. Consequently, the words he mutters are sepulchral to the core and do their best to not draw attention to themselves. 

It seems that Sting's austere commandments have stuck with Summers even after being freed from the shackles of the band, but luckily none of the pretentious, ill-conceived reggae beats are what he can recall. Unluckily, Summers seems absolutely terrified of playing his own instrument, instead relegating most of the airtime to synths and drum machines. 

When Summers does play that guitar of his, it's stringy and he manipulates it like a couple pieces of loose thread. Not only that, but he sounds positively bored. By the third track, everything is starting to sound similar and the lack of any true emotion in Summers' voice becomes almost grating to hear--none of that lovely screaming and wailing present on the last song he did vocal work for. If the man playing the song sounds that bored, can you imagine how bored the audience must get?

There's a few hints of Don Henley here, of A.O.R. schmaltziness there, but mostly this album is a bore. There's just barely enough going on to keep you paying attention, but even then it's a pretty sorry excuse for engagement. If you want any of good ol' Andy's eccentricities and droll sarcasm to shine through, then you should just stick to the aforementioned "Mother" or "Be My Girl--Sally". As for me, I'll be sticking out the rest of this godforsaken decade with The Cars and The Coolies. 

Rating: 3/5