Patronizing in many ways, “An evening with…” as a phrase that pays for the marketing of live music should really be stuffed into an industrial paper shredder. It lies there, right at the top of the press release for this performance. But fuck, man, how else is the instance of the former Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen playing a gig at the Metropolitan Opera backed up by the Royal Philharmonic Concert Orchestra supposed to be described? You just can’t beat that Sting and his fabulously tailored pantaloons, the ones spun from ancient Andalusian thread. His evenings last an entire weekend, just like his orgasms, and his gentlemanly sneer is a sideways dollar sign set on perpetual burst mode. Whose soul is caged now?
Tue., July 13, 8 p.m., 2010