Quotes about the music
Excerpt On The Creative Contributors To The Album:
She gathered some of her closest collaborators: producer Greg Kurstin, who worked with her on 25; supreme pop hitmaker Max Martin; and her new favourite, Inflo, the London-based producer known for his work with Little Simz and Sault. She even pulled in Swedish composer and producer Ludwig Göransson, who won an Academy Award for his Black Panther score and has worked closely with Childish Gambino.
On There Being No Features On The Project – Or Any Project:
"It's not that I don't want to. It's not calculated. It's just never been right for some reason."
Extract On The New Music, Which She Previewed:
The first song she plays is the first song on the album, a gut-wrenching plea of a piano ballad, the chorus of which goes: "Go easy on me baby / I was still a child / Didn't get the chance to / Feel the world around me." Her voice does different impossible Adele-ish things with the refrain "go easy," and although it starts to take on a euphoric tone, by the end, I feel pummeled. "So that's that one," she says quietly. "Do you like it?" (Perhaps the only thing more surreal than having Adele play you her new music in her kitchen is the revelation that she feels nervous and vulnerable doing so).
She queues up another one. "The next song is the one I wrote when I went to the studio the day after Angelo said I can't see you." A certain combination of elements—sexy '70s groove, heavy strings, heavier lyrics—immediately calls to mind Marvin Gaye. (What's Going On was a "very big reference" on the album, turns out.) "My little love," Adele sings in a low, smoky register. "I see your eyes / Widen like an ocean / When you look at me / So full of my emotions." Between verses are snippets of conversations she had with Angelo during the Year of Anxiety, recorded at her therapist's suggestion. The song ends with bits of a raw, teary voicemail she left for a friend. She was inspired to incorporate voice notes by Tyler, the Creator and the British rapper Skepta, she explains. "I thought it might be a nice touch, seeing as everyone's been at my door for the last 10 years, as a fan, to be like, Would you like to come in?"
I'm not sure I will survive another of Adele's new songs, but as she plays four more, it becomes clear that they are mapping a progression. The next one is cathartic, a soulful promise of new love that has her repeating variations of: "I just want to love you for free / Everybody wants something from me / You just want me." The fourth song is downright upbeat, meant to be a laugh-while-you're-crying respite from the heaviness—"Otherwise we'd all kill ourselves, wouldn't we?" Then comes a joyous anthem. Over gospelly organ she sings: "Let time be patient / Let pain be gracious." Toward the end a chorus of her friends chimes in, chant-singing, "Just hold on, just hold on," over and over. "The thing that they're all singing is what my friends used to say to me," Adele explains. "That's why I wanted them to sing it, rather than an actual choir."
She wants to play me a last song, the seven-minute opus that concludes the new album. It's a knockout. A string-swirling, Garland-invoking, jazzy, campy, swooning delight, packed with world-weary end-of-the-show reflection, and featuring a vocal for the ages. She watches happily as I beam my way through listening to it. Breakfast at Tiffany's was playing on the television in the studio when she recorded it, and she says it's the end song the movie should have had. But it's also the coda on her recent chapter.
