Stewart Copeland is best known as one-third of the Police, the chart-topping trio that called it quits after five acclaimed albums released between 1978-1983 and launched Sting to solo stardom.
With the Police, which also included guitarist Andy Summers, out of the picture, the drummer-percussionist changed course and became an in-demand film and TV score composer, working on such notable films as “Rumble Fish” and “Wall Street” as well as TV’s “The Equalizer,” “Dead Like Me” and more.
After a worldwide Police reunion tour, which was the highest-grossing trek in 2007, Copeland again pivoted, scoring live orchestra music for the classic film “Ben-Hur” in 2014.
He later also reimagined the Police catalog with a pair of releases, 2023’s “Police Deranged for Orchestra” and the world music exploration “Police Beyond Borders” with collaborator Ricky Kej, whom he also worked with on the 2021 album “Divine Tides,” which won a Grammy for new age album.
Our chat with Copeland, 72, was originally tied to his speaking tour, “Have I Said Too Much? The Police, Hollywood and Other Adventures,” but the Los Angeles date was scrapped in wake of the Palisades and Altadena wildfires. Ever the raconteur, Copeland is taking the speaking tour to Europe this spring and fall.
He also has a new album, “Wild Concerto,” which is out April 18. We spoke to Copeland, first via Zoom and then a follow-up phone call, about his new project and his busy creative life outside of the Police.
Tell me about your new album. This isn’t the Beach Boys’ “Pet Sounds” or Pink Floyd’s “Animals” with just a few random animal sounds sprinkled in. You seem to be more committed.
Stewart Copeland: Well, yeah, the animals get a much bigger dressing room on this. It’s not just called animal sounds. It is animal sounds.
How did it come about?
Incoming phone call. Platoon Records, which is owned by Apple. They acquired this library from a naturalist, Martyn Stewart, who is like the [British biologist and TV host] David Attenborough of sound. That’s how he’s been described. He spent his life on his hands and knees out in the jungles and in the mountains recording mostly bird sounds, but all these other animals as well. He has this huge library of these sounds and they’re wondering what to do with it. They said, “How about we do some music?” So they called me and said, “Can you work with this?” And I said, “Why yes, I can. Perhaps the reason they called me was because I have been using found sound, beginning with “Rumble Fish,” where Francis [Ford Coppola]’s ears pricked up when I started talking about doing loops with machines, billiard ball breaks, with dogs barking, all kinds of sounds in 1984.”
So how did you compose music using the recordings of animal sounds?
The folders that Martyn would send me were from different locales where the birds might have stopped, ecospheres of these different zones. I’d start with the background sounds, which are just a forest-scape or a wind-scape, and then I would look for the rhythmic elements, certain birds, which are rhythmic, and I’d build rhythms out of that. I didn’t alter any of the sounds. I didn’t change the pitch. I didn’t change the rhythm, but I placed them all very carefully so I build up a rhythm with these rhythm animals, the rhythm section. And then I looked for the long lines, mostly birds, the wolves also have some very long soloistic melodic lines, which are on pitch. But I put a trombone next to those bad boys. And now we’ve got your [John] Coltrane wolves.
Interesting. So, you didn’t autotune any of the animal sounds?
No autotune. No time stretching.
You mentioned “Rumble Fish.” When I put on the album for the first time, I definitely felt those “Rumble Fish” vibes.
Well, that’s all the percussion that I did all by myself here in the studio.
Producer Ricky Kej, left, natural sound recordist Martyn Stewart and Copeland in the studio during the making of “Wild Concerto.”
(Archie Brooksbank)
After doing two albums of reinterpretations of music by the Police was back to nature the only place to go from there?
I forgive myself for looking backwards and doing Police stuff because I’m confident in my forward motion. Right now, I’m running a gigantic opera I wrote and this album about animals, so I’m moving forward doing cool stuff, which makes me more relaxed about looking over my shoulder.
It seems like this is sort of a natural progression from your film composing and orchestrated work.
Yes, absolutely. The other love of my life is the orchestra and all the amazing things it can do. The orchestra has such a huge vocabulary. In my short lifespan, I probably won’t do more than scratch the surface of what an orchestra can do, but I’m working on it.
This album was produced by Ricky Kej, who you’ve worked with in the past. What did he bring to the project?
He’s an incredible musician and a great producer and he works way over there in Bangalore. He came to Abbey Road [in London], which is where we recorded the orchestra and produced a session. Having a producer is a very new thing for me. I went through my whole career never having a producer. The Police never had a producer. We just had recording engineers. And so recently I had an experience with a producer and, man, what took me so long? This is great. Somebody else to lean on, to carry the load and to hit me upside the head when I need to be hit upside the head.
But didn’t the Police have producers listed along with the band, like Hugh Padgham on “Synchronicity”?
He was used to producing Genesis and other civilized, well-behaved, respectful musicians not to be stuck on an island with three a— going at it. He did know where to put the microphones while dodging pizza. He did actually get a good recording. If there was a [more] active producer, he could have helped sort of break up those fights or keep things civil, but maybe not.
Are you still playing polo? [Copeland’s logo on his website is a polo player riding a horse]
No. I traded all the horses in for children, and they turned out to be even more expensive. I’ve got seven kids, which is more expensive than 12 horses.
Wow. What’s the age spread of your kids?
[Starts to say 50 but slurs his words to make it undecipherable] down to 25. And then I’ve got five grandchildren. When you start lying about your kids’ age you know you’re getting up there.
What was the oldest? I didn’t quite make that out?
[Once again starts saying 50 but slurs his words].
Fifty-something?
Yeah, 50-something. We’ll go with that.
Copeland conducting during recording session for “Wild Concerto”
(Archie Brooksbank)
But you still seem young and spry.
My kids became middle-aged before I became decrepit. I could always outrun, out-climb, out-sport all of my kids. And then I started to get creaky around age 70.
Are any of your kids involved in music or showbiz?
Just one. He’s in London. He’s actually a filmmaker but he has the gift of music. He picks up any instrument and the music just falls out of his fingers. And one of my grandchildren, who is 8. Young Arthur hasn’t got any musical chops, but whenever they come over he goes straight to the grand piano and he’s looking for cool stuff on there. You can see that it’s just there in his DNA.
This story originally appeared on LA Times
