My Weekend Crush

Clearly, I’ve had Adele on the brain the last 24 hours. And it seems so cliché to say you love Adele, because everyone loves Adele. Women, men, vertebrates, invertebrates, inanimate objects, imaginary friends. It’s impossible to not be awed by her voice. It’s criminal not to be moved by her emotions. Also that chin dimple? I fucking love that chin dimple. I really think Adele is one of the most beautiful women in music – not just her spectacular face, not just her spunky personality, not just her sublime voice (though sweet merciful Zeus, her voice), but her sane attitude about her art and self. She’s so refreshingly herself, so very outside of the corporate expectations of what a successful singer looks like in this day and age.

As Adele said herself in her Rolling Stone cover story earlier this year:

“My life is full of drama, and I don’t have time to worry about something as petty as what I look like… I don’t like going to the gym. I like eating fine foods and drinking nice wine. Even if I had a really good figure, I don’t think I’d get my tits and ass out for no one. I love seeing Lady Gaga’s boobs and bum. I love seeing Katy Perry’s boobs and bum. Love it. But that’s not what my music is about. I don’t make music for eyes, I make music for ears.”

Adele is gorgeous, and in a way that reminds you talent just needs a stage and a spotlight to shine. There’s nothing wrong with letting it all hang out, so to speak. But we also need to see it’s possible without the tits and ass. Talent is just talents. It doesn’t need any additional adornment to transport you someplace at once outside yourself and intensely personal. Also, there is no better therapy than singing at top volume in the car to Adele. “Someone Like You” in particular has saved me thousands in shrink fees. Happy weekend, all.

Sick sounds

Yesterday I stayed home sick. It wasn’t fun sick, where you throw on your jammies, watch daytime TV and get reindoctrinated into the Oprah cult. It was more like my body’s been hit by a truck, then backed back over, then hit again and then called a friend to come and hit me with another truck. I don’t think it was the flu, just the beginning of allergies. It’s basically spring here and everything has decided to bloom and mold all at once. So I took a bunch of Benadryl and basically was passed out all day. This is fascinating for you, I know. But bear with me. What the day did give me was the chance to listen to a lot of music, because I was too tired to watch TV. I could only handle once sense at a time: sounds or pictures or smells or touch or taste. So I listened, and when I got tired of my CDs I turned on Pandora. And then Adele’s “Rolling in the Deep” came on and I remembered, in an instant, why music could be so exciting. That driving beat, that commanding voice. So I dragged my weary body up from the bed, popped on iTunes and bought her new album “21” on the spot. So good, kittens, so good. So now, I’m passing my find along to you. You shouldn’t have to get hit by a metaphorical truck to enjoy some damn good music. Though, with a voice like that, it’s almost the same thing – though considerably less painful. Enjoy.