A Listener’s Guide to Sade

Despite immersing herself in the New Romantic movement, even briefly working as Spandau Ballet’s stylist, Adu glided onto the music scene with a sound more suited to dinner parties than hedonistic nightclub, The Blitz. Produced by Robin Millar, Diamond Life immediately set the Sade blueprint: tasteful, after-hours arrangements, sultry melodies sung with a cool detachment, and stories steeped in the transformative power of love.  

Couples therapy session “Hang on to Your Love,” the unashamedly romantic “Your Love Is King,” and adulterous vignette “Smooth Operator” helped Diamond Life reflect its title: its 10 million sales were the highest-ever for a British female-led act until Amy Winehouse’s Back to Black. But reflecting the working-class anxieties of the Thatcher years, “When Am I Going to Make a Living,” and “Sally,” a bluesy ode to a troubled men’s shelter, showed there was also substance to their super-smooth style.  

Striking while the iron was hot, Sade’s sophomore release arrived 16 months after the debut, which propelled them to perform at Live Aid as well as the Best New Artist Grammy. And the general approach appeared to be, “If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.” Indeed, while the state-of-the-art technology of London’s famous Power Plant Studios provided a more digital sheen, Promise mines a similar blend of nu-jazz, sophisti-pop, and Quiet Storm tailor-made for the post-party crowd.  

Adu’s poetic turn of phrase ensures its declarations of devotion always remain intriguing. On the typically lush opener “Is It a Crime?,” for example, she seductively croons about a love “wider than Victoria Lake.” Her infatuation is practically audible on “The Sweetest Taboo,” the rhythmic funk number that spearheaded Promise’s transatlantic chart-topping glory. Meanwhile, the stripped-back treatments for “Jezebel,” a non-judgmental account of a sex worker, and “Tar Baby,” the tale of a single mother overcoming familial shame, allowed Adu to showcase her talents as a master storyteller.

Only a band as confident in their meditative powers as Sade would consider launching a new album with “Love Is Stronger Than Pride,” a gorgeously restrained blend of pan pipes, Balearic guitars, and muted tropical beats, which essentially defined the term “pure vibes.” Still, by emphasizing atmospherics over hooks, the Prince-championed song perfectly set the languorous, leisurely tone ahead.   

Indeed, the aptly-titled “Haunt Me” and ambient break-up tale “I Never Thought I’d See the Day” also fulfill Adu’s goal to make “the quiet songs quieter.” Meanwhile, breakout hit “Paradise,” a percussive track so summery you can almost taste the Piña Coladas, and the subtle Latin funk of “Give It Up” effortlessly moved Sade’s sound from the coffee tables to the Caribbean shores, no doubt inspired by the Bahamas recording location. But providing Stronger Than Pride’s highlight, the hip-hop beats and dubby overtones of “Turn My Back on You” proved the group still had their fingers on the pulse back home.

“You can buy any kind of love, but you can’t get love deluxe,” Adu explained about Sade’s fourth and most sensual LP. A similar mark of quality exists throughout its various romantic sentiments, which range from the purely unconditional (“Kiss of Life”) and deeply joyful (“Cherish the Day”) to the self-empowering (“Bullet Proof Soul”) and emotionally devastating (“No Ordinary Love.”) 

Accompanied by a memorable mermaid bride video, the latter may well be the group’s crowning glory, a sumptuous seven-minute slow jam in which baby-making grooves, aquatic synths, and ghostly guitars intertwine with Adu’s breathless expressions. 

Released a year after Massive Attack’s Blue Lines reshaped the British soul scene, Love Deluxe often sounds like its more refined, less claustrophobic cousin, with the band abandoning their usual live drums for programmed beats on “Feel No Pain,” a sympathetic portrait of a Black family experiencing financial hardships, and “Like a Tattoo,” a sobering account of a war veteran’s attempts to make peace with his traumatic past. 

After a turbulent period in which she divorced Spanish director Carlos Pliego, became a first-time mother, and rebuilt her North London home, Adu and her Sade bandmates returned with a record that seamlessly slotted into the pop landscape yet impressively without surrendering to any new fads.   

Their first saxophone-free affair, Lovers Rock, represents the band at their most minimal, particularly the tender lullaby “The Sweetest Gift,” short-but-sweet “All About Our Love,” and instrumental “It’s Only Love That Gets You Through.” Elsewhere, languid digital beats and softly-plucked acoustic guitars are the album’s default setting, as perfected on the group’s most majestic paean to unconditional love, “By Your Side.” But you can also hear elements of the burgeoning neo-soul sound Sade helped to create on “King of Sorrow” and “Immigrant,” the latter another fine example of how Adu’s social commentary is much more nuanced than given credit for.

Again adhering to the idea of quality, not quantity, the enigmatic Sade took an even lengthier break before album number six. Patience paid off, as Soldier of Love became their first chart-topper in 25 years, still a record gap.   

Sade staged their long-awaited comeback in an era when many R&B artists had jumped on the EDM bandwagon. The Brits wisely continued to focus on what they do best. Not that they didn’t have a few surprises up their sleeves. The title track’s punchy guitars and martial beats create the edgiest moment in their discography. The twanging country of “Be That Easy” pipped Beyoncé’s similarly unlikely pivot into Nashville territory by 14 years. And the reggae-tinged “Babyfather” explored the possibility that the famously reclusive Adu regularly took the bus! But all carried out with a minimum of fuss, its brooding, bewitching sound was always unmistakably Sade.