Can we forgive Sting? Sting has invited me to listen to some new songs he's recording in New York for his next album, Brand New Day. We're at the studio, Right Track. He pulls out a cassette and makes the usual excuses: rough mixes, unfinished tracks, just a dub. He paces while I listen. He looks like Sgt. Fury today, all in khaki: baggy army pants, tight olive T-shirt, tan lace-up boots, scraggy beard, superhero shoulders. He reads the paper and puts it down. He walks in and out of the room. He eats some pasta and salad. He stands on his head. Sting can stand on his head a long, long time. He does not need to lean against a wall to do it...