Credit where credit is due. Sting looks amazing.

It wasn't just the ladies at last night's concert, the first of three shows at the Queen Elizabeth Theatre in Vancouver, who thought so. There was an audible intake of breath as the clean-living superstar strode on stage and launched into bouncy opener, "All This Time." That gasp was coming from every man over 40 in the room (every male present, essentially), collectively gazing at the 60-year-old's broad shoulders and toned physique, and instantly regretting never taking up macrobiotic diets and yoga classes.

It's been over three decades since Sting rose to fame as the leader of The Police, the band of virtuoso insiders that ironed out punk and reggae's creases to become the biggest New Wave act on the planet. The connection between that band and Vancouver is still strong. Four years ago Rogers Arena (GM Place in those days) was where the reformed Police began their world tour. The overjoyed reaction that greeted "Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic" last night – the call and response of "ay-yay-o!" echoing around the theatre – was a clear reminder why The Police remain a mainstay of B.C. classic rock radio.

Sting has matured since those days. Which is hardly a good thing. That band was curt and clipped, the drama in their songs coming from their minimal arrangements and delicate musicianship. Sting's 2011 band – two guitarists, drums, a pair of violinists and the big man on bass – achieved the opposite. By adding more layers of sound, the rough edges that once were the signature of Sting's best material have long been sanded away. For those seeking sonic smoothness, it was soothing perfection. For anyone after excitement, hopefully they caught the Canucks' amazing comeback against the Habs before settling into their seats.

Sting's wide-ranging and over-polished song-writing palette was on full display over the course of two often-dreary hours, taking the rough joys out of jazz ("Seven Days"), blues rock ("Demolition Man"), world music ("Desert Rose") and country ("I'm So Happy I Can't Stop Crying" and "I Hung My Head"), their creator proudly pointing out that the last two had been covered by Toby Keith and Johnny Cash respectively.

That was merely one boast in a bewildering selection of mid-song interjections from Sting, who on more than one occasion misjudged the fine line between self-effacing humour and stunning pretension. On the subject of song writing, he revealed that he "prayed to his muse" to come up with the psychic car thief character in the supremely hokey "Stolen Car." "I bought a house near Stonehenge. Actually, it was more like a castle," was the introduction to an achingly dull "Fields of Gold."

An incomprehensible rant about combining the plots of The Magnificent Seven and Seven Brides for Seven Brothers heralded the arrival of "Love Is Stronger Than Justice," a country-rock surprise highlighted by a rousing solo duel between Sting on bass and violinist Peter Tickell. The crowd, lulled into drowsiness with the previous 90 minutes of easy listening, rose to its collective feet to celebrate the moment.

Sting, donning his Buzz Killington costume, responded with "The Hounds of Winter," a numbing non-event of a song.

Sting has reached a glorious 60 by removing the artifices of rock and roll from his life. The creative tragedy is that he's done the same with his music. Philosophy has displaced fun. Precision trumps passion. Mildness beats wildness.

The weird thing is, it didn't have to be this way. For his final encore, Sting emerged alone with a Spanish guitar – the first six-string he'd touched all night – and delivered a raw, emotionally-charged "Message In A Bottle." The crowd roared the chorus. There were a few bum notes.

It was the best song of the night. Nothing else came close.

Sting plays the Queen Elizabeth Theatre in Vancouver on December 9th and 10th.