I will always say that Adele is MY artist. Some artists I like, I like because someone introduced it to me, like Jeff Buckley, Maria Mena to name a couple – artists that I came to appreciate and love because I hung out too much at Nick’s place; BUT Adele, is mine.

It was the music video of Chasing Pavements that caught my attention, that made me look for her album in record stores. It was that beautiful voice that on the first words, always made me think of Macy Gray (an absolute favorite of mine), that in turn evoked memories of my days in college and El Nido, which in turn evoked memories associated with Joss Stone. It always was a cascade of memories, deep-seated and quite uncontrollable.

Asked why I had liked that video, its simple but unique. The stop motion part is something I had looked forward to every time.

More than the video, I had loved the song and the lyrics. It had provided the perfect soundtrack to my nomadic life of the years past.

Should I give up or should I just keep chasing pavements
Even if it leads nowhere?
Or would it be a waste even if I knew my place
Should I leave it there?
Should I give up or should I just keep chasing pavements
Even if it leads nowhere?

I build myself up and fly around in circles
Wait then as my heart drops and my back begins to tingle
Finally could this be it?

And then came her cover of Bob Dylan’s Make You Feel My Love, on which I wrote a short blog entry here back in 2009.

Adele’s 21 album found me in a plane to Chicago, really. I remember sitting on that plane for I think, a 14-hour trip from Shanghai, and watching advertisements on my screen for the release of her second album two days away while I listened to music and sipped glass after glass of milk, which was just about the only thing I could “eat” those days.

And how ironic it is that the entire album was the entire journey, from the very beginning to the very end. Let’s just make it clear, Adele is MY artist.

 

You know how the time flies
Only yesterday was the time of our lives
We were born and raised in a summer haze
Bound by the surprise of our glory days….

Nothing compares, no worries or cares
Regrets and mistakes, they’re memories made
Who would have known how bittersweet this would taste?

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