She wafts through the speakers of my old laptop, a welcome temptress, to lure me from the sexless screen and its halting word-flow to a fanciful island of illicit delights. She is a friendly spirit, a Tinkerbelle to playful souls. My ears tingle with that hoarse, feathery softness and my thoughts trip on those engaging lyrics. She is… Sade Adu.
If I tell you how I feel…sweetest taboo… That’s why I’m in love with you…Everyday is Christmas…and every night is New Year’s eve…When you keep on loving me…bringing out the best in me…
I did find in her a worthy companion for a tiring search. I had gone down memory lane for fifty golden moments, if you like candles, to decorate our golden cake of national independence. The idea had come from all that bitching about our fiftieth independence anniversary. A very vocal, very cynical section of the media did not think we had anything to show for fifty years of nationhood.
Flipping through many hazy yesteryears however, one was able to record occasions of sheer joy when one had felt very proud to be numbered among the strange specie of folk who describe themselves as Nigerians.
New Year Eve at Lekki Beach: the soft throb of a slow Latin tempo funk beat merging with the ocean breeze sets loose in a cheerful bunch of revelers a gentle hip swinging dance style that came with the chart topping composition. SAP, the development tonic that failed to rejuvenate the national economy was beginning to take its toll on the psyche of the ailing middle class. The wisest of that engendered set were starting to make long term plans for a swift change of location across the wide seas. Sadder days were yet ahead and so, we could afford to rock to Smooth Operator and celebrate at once the sweetness of easy cash flowing on the heels of Babangida’s two-tier forex system.
Yet, the greater joy was in acknowledging our own; a home girl made good, who had earned us our first ever Grammy for Best New Artiste. Deny it who can, did we not flaunt the fact that she belonged to us- never mind, the trifle about never having grown up here? That is what nationalism does to you; makes you want to reach out and grab everything that burnishes your identity and self respect as a citizen. Why? Because, they bring out the best in you!
Again in 1994, Helen Folasade Adu won the Grammy for Best R& B Performance, literally sending us to Paradise once more in 2004 with Best Pop Vocal Album for Lovers Rock. It was a while too before Seal, another Nigerian, draped our spirits with the bubbly of another Grammy, though Femi Kuti’s nomination is worth observing for the gravitas it bestowed on afro beat outside our borders.
But this piece is seriously about Sade Adu and the incomparable style that characterizes her discography. Researching a compilation for the Star musical promotions two years ago, I came upon references that put her in the ranks of Al Jarreau, Anita Baker, Chaka Khan, Erica Badu and the like. The comparison sprang from smooth jazz; the fusion thing between traditional jazz and varied pop idioms across Europe, the US and Latin America.
Well, I don’t mean to take anything from these other great artistes, but our dear Sade is verily in a class of her own. She makes love to the eardrums like cool breeze on warm skin in the lazy, sleepy hours…fresh, natural, unsullied by hi-tech…
I am amazed to learn that her curious hold on the music scene is the rare attribute of a very enigmatic spirit. This comes from a recent Ebony magazine which sought to review her latest album, Soldier of Love. In a world where show business is seen as showy business and many a musical career would shrivel from lack of publicity, this British Nigerian, as the magazine describes her, shuns the glamour world of photo ops and self promoting sound bites. In fact, she is very nearly a recluse whose reticence has kept the rumour mills working overtime in that part of the world.
I could not help feeling that she was helping to present to the world a new face of the very dim Ebony magazine. ‘Eureka’, I almost heard them screaming from the high towers of the Atlanta publishing house: ‘There are other achievers outside the African American branch of the universal African family!’ Okay, they profiled Mandela and Tutu so long ago, if I remember correctly, but the Ebony perspective has always appeared myopic to me. The editors may have woken up to the reality that the African world is theirs to conquer, and lies much beyond the ghettos and suburbs of the US of A. It’s a post Obama thing maybe. ‘Better late than never,’ I say.
The article was filled with tender recognition of Sade Adu’s liberating self assurance and confident rejection of the crass commercial ethos of the international music industry. Fans commended her Soldier of Love video for its lack of nudity. She reportedly said: “I think it is good to remain true to the spirit of the song. (To be half naked) would be a distraction.”
Spirit of the song! Spoken like a true country woman. No ordinary spirit that and clearly, Sade Adu has it in abundance. Wishing here that our home bred musical wannabes, who dub every thing good and bad that is Western, can follow her example. Wishing also that one day soon, Sade Adu will come do a show here, in Nigeria, for her teeming homeland fans.
Somebody tell her that!
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