I first discovered Sade in the early 80s. Back then there were many excellent bands, the competition for my ears was fierce in the arenas of new wave, punk, industrial dance, alternative, and American and British pop.
But Sade, in her own way, trumped them all on her own terms. Why? Because she was the exact opposite of all the exuberant, in-your-face dramatics of pop music. She had one of the rarest of qualities: cool.
This statuesque former model, part Nigerian and part English, possessed a smooth unwavering voice, a decidedly distant yet not icy personal style, and a unique talent to circumnavigate the limelight of paparazzi and other media intrusion that constantly subject us to the pummeling of celebrity gossip and drama of the entertainment world. When all we heard and saw (whether we want it or not) were the tabloid headlines of Whitney Houston and Madonna, nowhere to be seen was Sade. She simply made herself out to be too "boring" to sell millions of magazine copies for the publishers. Which in the end rendered her that much more intriguingly mysterious.
While the pop stars of the 80s often times dressed in the most outlandish ways to sustain the attention of whoreish media and fans, Sade had always been at the far end of the spectrum. She was almost always photographed in stark black, clean tailored lines, turtleneck sweaters, backless cocktail dresses that caressed her lean model's frame, long black silk gloves, dark trousers, hair slicked back to a long pony tail. Such style is eternal and can never be tethered to an era or decade, least of all the ostentatious and overripe 80s.
Sade's music, naturally, aurally extends and embodies this cool, confident style. Her forte was jazz, the iconic kind so easily recognized in its native atmosphere of smoky nightclub patronized by elegant elite clientele serviced by bartenders with combed back hair, starched white shirts, and waistcoasts. Subsequently she inflected her rhythms with African beats or subtle hip hop influences, but ultimately the sounds never shout at you and instead invite you to lounge and enjoy a nicely mixed martini, as smooth and intoxicating as Sade herself, her creamy voice crooning over the cradling bass and purring saxophone.
Cool incarnate is Sade. No one could, can, or can ever, touch her, even as she touches us.
But Sade, in her own way, trumped them all on her own terms. Why? Because she was the exact opposite of all the exuberant, in-your-face dramatics of pop music. She had one of the rarest of qualities: cool.
This statuesque former model, part Nigerian and part English, possessed a smooth unwavering voice, a decidedly distant yet not icy personal style, and a unique talent to circumnavigate the limelight of paparazzi and other media intrusion that constantly subject us to the pummeling of celebrity gossip and drama of the entertainment world. When all we heard and saw (whether we want it or not) were the tabloid headlines of Whitney Houston and Madonna, nowhere to be seen was Sade. She simply made herself out to be too "boring" to sell millions of magazine copies for the publishers. Which in the end rendered her that much more intriguingly mysterious.
While the pop stars of the 80s often times dressed in the most outlandish ways to sustain the attention of whoreish media and fans, Sade had always been at the far end of the spectrum. She was almost always photographed in stark black, clean tailored lines, turtleneck sweaters, backless cocktail dresses that caressed her lean model's frame, long black silk gloves, dark trousers, hair slicked back to a long pony tail. Such style is eternal and can never be tethered to an era or decade, least of all the ostentatious and overripe 80s.
Sade's music, naturally, aurally extends and embodies this cool, confident style. Her forte was jazz, the iconic kind so easily recognized in its native atmosphere of smoky nightclub patronized by elegant elite clientele serviced by bartenders with combed back hair, starched white shirts, and waistcoasts. Subsequently she inflected her rhythms with African beats or subtle hip hop influences, but ultimately the sounds never shout at you and instead invite you to lounge and enjoy a nicely mixed martini, as smooth and intoxicating as Sade herself, her creamy voice crooning over the cradling bass and purring saxophone.
Cool incarnate is Sade. No one could, can, or can ever, touch her, even as she touches us.
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