Adele 21

It’s been a minute since I’ve *cough cough “reviewed” an album.  Some of you may remember how this turned out; but for those of you who don’t, simply click this linky link sentence-y thing-a-muh-jig and you will be instantly transported to a magical album review by yer ole buddy Jas.

This being said, I have no real intention of reviewing this album either.

Boom.

Aw, come on now!  You KNOW me.  What the hell good would I be if I didn’t ramble and rant and rave and joke and toss about jolly good witticisms and other assorted asides?  BULLY!

So yeah… I’m in a good mood.  You can always tell with me.  Basically, I can’t keep on a single train of thought for less than a sentence worth of Doritos taste good but they just so TOTALLY go right to my thighs.   Chicken fried steak.

See?

Good mood.

So let’s talk about this pretty rad chick colloquially known as Adele.  She is known as this because that is her name.  You may refer to her as “Elle” or you may possibly also say, ‘ELLO, ADDY!  OW’S YER BUM, LOVE?!’  At which point, she may very well pull out her well documented shotgun that she always carries and blow your simple ass away.  I read a lot of wikipedia and I’m quite certain she’s the one who carries a shotgun.  Whatev’s… Don’t piss off Adele is the main frigging point here, people.  It’s probably not nice to ask random people about their bum regardless–remember, you heard it here.  Jas=etiquette.

Is the good mood permeating your eye-holes-to-yer-brains yet?

Meh, piss off if you’re grumpy.  Let’s continue.

So me wifey, Gangsta Vicki, tells me about this great album.  As she slammed my head in the car door and put the gun muzzle down my throat, I started to think that I might maybe should listen to this joint.  But FRIGGING SIGH!  A girl?  Really?  I have to listen to girl music?  Really?  Do I have to?  Can’t you, just… You know… Shoot me?  (This is the part where she curb stomped me a few times until I learned to behave myself and not be a sexist ass-bag)

As I lay there in a fetal position, whimpering, I thought to myself:  Alright, let’s give it a listen.  Everyone seems to really like this lovely lady and I might as well drink the Kool-Aid and take my place amongst the faithful.

Now, those of you who know me, know that I fucking LOATHE following the fucking crowd on music, movies, food and lists of three.

Which is why:

I make my own music (which you can download for FREE–only for a limited time–on my website now.  DO IT.)

I watch weird, classic, genre-changing anime that only hipster-video-game-nerd-pimps understand (not always; but I SO want to be cool).

I eat food, because most people eat corporate, “not-food” that totally sucks!  Okay, okay… You got me… I’m totally shilling one of the first blogs I wrote on here.  It’s not really good; but I do want you to see how “far I’ve come” in my blogging endeavors. It’s not that I’m “good” now; it’s just that I was REALLY bad back then, amirite?

Moving right the hell along…

Adele, damnit.  I shall stay on topic–at least until the topic is established.

I had heard about Adele and I had read about Adele and basically all I knew was Adele was the new Winehouse.  For cave dwellers, I mean, of course, Amy Winehouse.  You know, Rehab and won’t go go go and all that?

From this point on until I tell you otherwise, you may want to not actually read this blog… Now, how the fuck you’re supposed to know when to come back in without actually reading is going to be a challenge… But as Adele says:  “I’m willing to take the risk.”

So for pansies, piss off–this means you.

…

…

Are “they” gone..?

Good.

Let’s continue.

To call Adele the “new Amy” is a fucking insult.  No.  NO. FUCKING NO OFFENSE INTENDED.  I understand Amy has recently passed and believe me when I tell you, I think it’s an absolute waste.  No, when I say it’s an offense, I mean that to both the Ladies.  That’s like saying that Eddie Vedder was the new Chris Cornell  (for the absolutely un-rocked, they are, respectively, the lead singers of Pearl Jam and Sound Garden).  The fucking point being:  There is simply NO comparison.  They are vastly different singers singing vastly different music.  Go ahead.  Dispute it.  I absolutely fucking dare you.  Trolls welcome (no bots welcome under any circumstances).  Any rational human being will understand the comparison is absolutely fucking ludicrous.

Okay, okay… Soul.  “R&B.”  A type of “throwback” to a certain ‘Motown’ or ‘Stax’ ‘sound.’  This doesn’t fucking qualify them for Siamese Twin award of the year, now does it?  Listen to them.  Just fucking LISTEN to them.

Nothing alike, brah… Not even in the same fucking ballpark.  Same sport?  Maybe… But let’s be serious here…

There are not five female soul singers on the frigging planet; so let’s not act like that is the fact, okay?  For realz, dawg… Get your head out of your ass.

Now that we’ve moved beyond the ridiculous, cursory comparisons to other artists (which, of course, have about as much bearing on a person’s art as their goddamn underwear–unless you’re talking psychologically:  in which case the cavalier attitude of tiger striped boxers show a tendency towards… Fuck you, psychology) let’s move even further on, shall we?

I know you, internet…  So I cannot fucking move on without saying the following… But before I do, I want to say that for a collective of nameless people who unabashedly enjoy women defecating in cups and different women (or the same women, cause, like “fuck it” right?) enjoying a nice little ‘romp’ with a frigging farm animal, you certainly are touchy when it comes to saying something about ‘REAL’ people, right?

So, with your delicate sensibilities in mind, I say that I mean no disrespect to Amy Winehouse and I am sorry to see her go.  It was a shame and I realize that my awful naughtiness in writing a blog about Adele without completely dedicating it to Amy Winehouse is absolutely criminal.  I suck.  I’m sorry.

Internet?

Go fuck yourself.

Moving right the fuck along…

HEY!  YEAH YOU… THE ONE WITH THE DELICATE FUCKING SENSIBILITIES!!!  IT’S OKAY TO COME BACK IN, YOU FRIGGING NANCY-BOY!

Are we all here?  Nice.  Have some cookie-woompums and let’s continue.

Adele has a MASSIVE album on her hands.  You don’t need me to tell you that.  Wait for the Grammys.  Susta is gonna take home some little phonographs, that’s for sure.  For those who think the grammys are shit, just listen.  She really can bring it.  There’s emotion.  There’s pain.  There’s hope.  There’s energy.  Is it “produced?”  Yes.  Is that a bad thing?  Only if you hate everything that anyone has heard about besides you–in which point, you’re a fuckwad and it’s not about them, it’s about you.  Admit it.   You just want to talk about you.  That’s the douchebag ethos, is it not?  Now, I love me some hipsters… Fuck me, I AM a hipster in a lot of ways…

ahem

double ahem

Silliness aside, let’s make this about Adele for a second.  Little Sister has got some amazing pipes.  As stated about a thousand words ago, I had heard some of her first album “19.”  I thought her voice was fantastic, even then; but there was something not necessarily “there,” if that makes sense?  “Chasing Pavements” is a cool enough song; but beyond her voice, it’s simply not something that grabbed me by the sideburns and bitched slapped me around into listening for more than a few listens.  The world loved it; but the world loved lots of things I didn’t like.  Nah, I’ll decline on listing them because I’m lazy.

You would think that I would learn by now that sometimes the world “gets ‘it’ right” sometimes, occasionally but not usually sometimes–by the way, that sentence sums up why I’m writing about an album in August when it came out in January.  You may remember that I had a similar experience with Radiohead and with Arcade Fire; it’s really nothing personal to the artist/band/movie/food/style/etc.  I just have a real problem with being told I simply HAVE TO like something.  Why?  Because fuck that.  That’s why.

But as usual, though not nearly as bad as usual, I digress… I recently gave Adele’s latest album “21″ a shot first and foremost because my lovely lady, gangsta-ass, wife told me she absolutely loved the album.  Fair enough, darling… But unfortunately, I lack ovaries and therefore am unable to enjoy female music–which, historically for me, is utter bullshit.  I’ve loved me some female musicians; but for some damn reason, I seem to be resistant to THINKING I’ll like them.  I have the same damn problem with country music.  I am nearly positive it has to do with being TOLD it’s good–possibly it’s because there are less female bands/artists than males and therefore I hear about a female artist before I actually hear them?  Who knows?  Maybe I’m just a sexist bastard–which will be sad for me; because quite honestly, I have always had exponentially more female friends than male and I’ve always been told I wasn’t a piggy.  Possibly they were saying I just wasn’t as piggish as the next guy?  Sigh…

Well, that’s why personal growth isn’t called “personal do it for a few years and get a medal,” right?

Adele… Right.  Back to it.

You know what I think I like best about Adele?

Squawk.

That’s right.

Squawk.

She BRINGS it.  It’s like listening to a female David Ruffin (a personal fav) or a female Joe Cocker or something like that.  She has grit and huevos.  I dig it.  I don’t get to hear a lot of female artists (popular around the world, I mean) that have growl and attack and spit lyrics with power.  Now now, I’m not talking about diva screaming either… It’s different.  Bark is different than scream.  Grit is different than screech.  If you don’t know what I mean, then here:  LOOK AT THE KEYS!  LOOK AT THE SHINY KEYS!!!

-jingles car keys-

Yeah.  Moxy.  Balls.  Guts.  Chutzpah.

Chick is bad.  Awww yeeeahhh…. Adele is a bad mutha–WATCH YO MOUTH–I’m just talking about Adele!

That’s right.  And I love it.  Yes yes, easy to know why, of course.  Adele sings like I do.  Big balls, going at it with all phasers on incinerate and the shields be damned!  Now now, before you get mean and nasty–I’m not comparing myself to Adele.  She is a remarkable singer and at the time of this writing, I’m an unknown schmuck with only mostly regional (and a tad of international) love.  All I’m saying is I like big, bluesy, soulful voices and that’s been used to describe us both–so suck it.

I suppose I should mention something about the album now…

Well… It’s pretty fucking good.  How about that?

Key tracks for me have been:

“Rumour Has It,” ‘Turning Tables,’ ‘He Won’t Go’ (fucking phenomenal), ‘One and Only’ and ‘Someone Like You.’  But they’re really all pretty good–those just happen to be the ones that she puts some real stank on.  Either that or I just dig those for some reason?  Meh.  Fuck it.  Just listen and pick your own favs.

I do have to say that I’m not crazy about “Don’t You Remember.”  Just a personal thing.  Vicki loves it.  I’m pretty meh on it.  I mean, it’s not terrible, just not my thing.

Also, “Set Fire to the Rain” sounds like a Katy Perry tune–not that there’s anything wrong with that; but ovaries are a necessity for that sort of music.

I kid, I kid.

But seriously, that song is really feeling slightly out of place on this album.  The whole thing is either a piano ballad, personal, emotion-drenched, diary excerpt or a Motown tune.  Or both.  “Set Fire to the Rain” (besides being a silly hook) is just a very ‘now’ pop dalliance.

…

Holy.  Fucking.  Shit.

I AM a hipster…

I must now commit seppuku.

I suppose in summation, just let me again say what a really talented singer I think this Chica is and what a worthwhile listen “21″ has been for me.  I’m really glad my wifey suggested it at gunpoint.  You should all listen to this disc.  More importantly, you should all listen to MINE.  Look up at the top right of this screen…  It’s free.  Now go tell your friends.

Seriously, Adele rocks.  And if you’re reading this, love; well done.