Photographing every breath they took

After the sound checks, in-between the room service and before the groupies attacked, Andy Summers, the guitarist of the Police, used to sneak off into deserted America with a black Leica tucked under his arm. He'd spend hours alone wandering through Seattle, Albuquerque, Fresno -- hiding in the shadows of the scenery and snapping pictures to illustrate life during the frenzied early '80s, which marked the height of success for the rock super-group.

"When you're traveling around in a large entourage and being in a group where you're supposed to share ideas, photography was a way for me to have autonomy over my own universe," Summers said Monday by phone from his Los Angeles home, where he was packing as the band -- Summers, Sting and drummer Stewart Copeland -- prepares to hit the road again for its highly successful reunion tour.

Having amassed almost 25,000 images from his time on the road, Summers collated them and boxed them away in his attic. The images remained hidden for nearly 20 years, until a friend suggested Summers pull together his impressive collection.

So out of the dust came the aptly titled book "I'll Be Watching You: Inside the Police 1980-83," the recently released work Summers compiled that blends hundreds of his pictures with dated journal entries.

"We're all fans of the Police, and there's so much mystery surrounding the time the band ceased to function together," said Nina Wiener, who edited the Taschen book. "The book gives us that inside access, and the real shocker is what a great photographer Andy is."

Taschen recently distributed 1,500 signed and numbered limited-edition copies of the book worldwide, attached with a lofty $400 price tag. In October, a smaller coffee-table version with identical content will retail for $39.99.

The images certainly feed the pervasive sex, drugs and rock 'n' roll stereotype.

Among them: a crazed fan attempting to score an autograph through the band's limo window, a maid offering room service, a naked girl stretched out beside a guitar and Sting luxuriating like a god in a glistening body of water.

"Do you hate touring or love it? The meat grinder of hell or the heaven of adoration?" Summers writes in one entry, dated Dec. 3, 1982. "But the fact that 'they' are thrilled to see you -- with their 50,000 faces turned in your direction every night -- you become part of the bacchanalia.... You shrug and then leap like a rabid dog on to the stage."