Album Review: Diamond Life by Sade
Album Review: Diamond Life by Sade
Sade's persona is reflected in the bright edges of her first album.
Taken from Phil’s defunct blog, The Wax Report, an extensive review of the most important albums, covering everything from production to lyricism and overall cohesiveness.
“Diamond life, lover boy.” With this verse, which opens the song “Smooth Operator” on her debut album, Nigerian Helen Folasade Adu—the main voice and protagonist of the British band Sade (read: “shadei”)—introduces herself. The verse is emblematic beyond the self-reference to the album’s title: “Lover boy” precisely describes the character of the opening track and also describes Sade’s own story as a band and artistic act. This story is marked by love, positivity, the ills of feeling, and the objects of such love, whether by people, moments, or encounters.
Sade is inescapable. Even though it is sometimes read as having a boredom and idleness characteristic of criticisms of smooth-soul, the band is in a pantheon of its own of British musical acts and acts of the archaic, condescending, and sincerely old-fashioned 90s term World Music: in the infusion of Caribbean and African rhythms with the sophistication of the saxophone and Helen’s own hoarse vocals. Diamond Life is rooted in a New Wave wave, despite gracefully moving away from the sincere sameness that plagued the British genre in the post-Remain in Light, the peak album by the English band Talking Heads, and the aegis of British wave.
It is an undeniably English album, in its sound machinations and rhythmic experiments, which come from immigration from countries in the global south, often former colonies or victims of UK imperialism, to English territory proper, mainly in the suburbs of London and Manchester, in the late 1980s and early 90s. Also, for this reason, it is an undeniably immigrant album in the sound, in its main voice, in the themes.
It is also very 70s in its soul and smooth jazz, in the melancholic, sensual meanders, in the veiled homages, or not, to the American icons of soul, of black roots music and body politic, to the jazz instrumentations, in a worthy jam by George Benson, or by Rahsaan Roland Kirk. Of quite poignant pains, which throb in Sade’s hoarse eloquence, of quite bittersweet loves, which, ignited by the instrumental, evoke fiery pasts, promising futures, real presents that must be dealt with, whether by the one who sings or by the one who listens.
The political body of smooth soul has sometimes been left aside due to an exotic look at non-American influences, but it is primary in its development and cultural weight, see Songs In the Key of Life by Stevie Wonder or What’s Going On by Marvin Gaye, both works very present in the popular imagination, and in mainstream American references, and yet, shining in their political weight and their pro-Civil Rights protests in the 1970s.
“Smooth Operator” is a titan, a landmark of modern smooth soul that recently gained a new wave of popularity. At the same time, the song represents the beginning of a work that pays homage to masters of American soul, such as Al Green, Marvin Gaye, and Donny Hathaway, with their sensuality in voice and instrument, addressing loving, melodramatic themes, about the pains and delights of love.
With “Hang On to Your Love,” the singer adopts a funk sound, in a Funkadelic and Kool & The Gang vein, while uttering verses of protest about a love that, to grow and strengthen, needs to remain in one focus. In “Frankie’s First Affair,” the band strengthens its aesthetic based on the sounds of the saxophone and tropical rhythms, with sometimes dense lyrics, Sade Adu sings about a couple who find themselves involved in betrayals, focusing on Frankie, the focus character of the song.
Following with “When Am I Going to Go Make a Living,” inspired by Stevie Wonder’s Innervisions, Sade denounces an unfavorable financial situation not only for herself but also for those in similar situations, addressing racial and gender issues. In “Cherry Pie,” she brings back the groove funk sound in a deliciously danceable bass line. “Sally” stands out as one of the highlights of Helen Adu’s vocal career, with melodic touches that express the sadness and challenges faced by Sally’s life, the character portrayed in her verses, in a melancholy laced with slow soul.
The last track, “Why Can’t We Live Together,” begins with a bongo rhythm and an almost toxic bass line, evolving into an electric organ and, finally, into Sade’s explosive voice: “Tell me why, tell me why/why can’t we live together?” She protests through a slow jam worthy of Marvin Gaye before the electric organ steals the show again with its groove.
Diamond Life is the beginning of the genius of one of the biggest bands in UK history and its star, Helen Folasade Adu, whose towering, booming presence remains in a place of her own in Western mainstream culture. Here, too, we see the roots of musical experimentation that would bear fruit on Love Deluxe and Promise, his subsequent albums. Helen Folasade Adu is the jeweler of a very polished diamond in the edges of her life, from her birth in Nigeria, at the time still an English colony, to her dazzling rise in the internal reflections of her persona in the carat of her voice. It is a presentation with the hardness of a diamond but with the characteristic shine of the gem.
And, of course, Helen’s career will bear even greater fruit in subsequent years, but the taste that remains is always the same, regardless of who analyzes it: very few artists can boast of a debut album so complete, so unique, so her own. And this is the picture that Sade creates over the years, that his work is only his own, his stories, painful both for himself and for those who listen, his loves, visibly ardent, yes, but burning more intensely within itself than in any other ear or thought. It is the art that shines here, and those who can witness its glory are grateful.
Standout (★★★★½)
Favorite Track(s): “Hang On to Your Love,” “When Am I Going to Go Make a Living,” Sally,” “Why Can’t We Live Together”