Introduction
The O2, London, Monday, 21 March 2016
A picture of Adele’s immaculately made-up eyes, tightly closed, with a striking pair of false lashes, illuminates an enormous screen behind the stage. Suddenly, without warning, the lights go down and the eyes open wide, creating a maelstrom of excitement and cheering. The Adele roar shakes the foundations.
‘Hello … It’s me!’ And there she is, a formidable presence, six feet in heels. She appears not on the main stage, but on a small circular platform in the centre of the audience. 20,000 people are already on their feet. Her black silk Burberry gown is speckled with hand-woven floral sequins that are instantly lit by what seem like a million mobile phones as she launches into her iconic comeback song.
How did an ordinary girl from Tottenham inspire such adulation and acclaim, mixed with a generous helping of affection? My row is full of friendly and chatty Americans, who thought it would be ‘fun’ to fly over and see her, even though she will be touring the US throughout the year. I wonder idly if there is anyone from her old neighbourhood here tonight.
Everyone seems to know the words to ‘Hello’. It’s a wall of sound, but her voice is as big as ever, refusing to be overwhelmed by the backing music or our sing-along. The track has already broken so many records. The figures are mind-boggling in an age when there’s so much choice. I read that it topped the iTunes chart in 102 countries when it was released in November 2015. I can’t name 102 countries! The problem with this song is that it will always have to be the first number at her concerts. ‘Hello’ seems a bit ridiculous as an encore anthem.
She is flanked by her security as she walks to the main stage and launches into ‘Hometown Glory’. The picture of her Dusty Springfield eyes on the big screen gives way to photographs of London. It’s a simple song, the first she ever completed, aged sixteen, and powerful in its youthful underlying message of nostalgia and empowerment.
Before we can draw breath, the blockbuster beginning continues with ‘One and Only’, arguably the best track from the record-breaking album 21. It’s smoky and soulful. Close your eyes and you can imagine one of the great divas of the past singing it in a jazz club … maybe Ella Fitzgerald or Sarah Vaughan or, best of all, Adele’s favourite singer, Etta James.
I’ve been listening to Etta a lot while I work on this book and her peerless recordings remind me so much of Adele. ‘Fool That I Am’ was on Adele’s set list when she started out, and part of me wishes it still was, but, for me, ‘One and Only’ carries the hallmark of Etta. Adele is one of those great artists who carry their influences around with them like a favourite handbag.
She needs to pause after three power songs in a row. She takes a swig from a mug containing a honey drink to soothe her voice, and starts to engage her audience in that natural, easy manner she has. It’s as if you were standing next to her in a checkout queue at Asda – although I suspect she shops at Waitrose these days.
Banter and interaction with the fans have become a feature of this tour. She started off in Belfast helping a female fan make a leap-year marriage proposal to her boyfriend. Unsurprisingly, he said yes and the story went round the world. In Manchester, she invited a twelve-year-old girl with autism to come on stage and sing ‘Someone Like You’. She was brilliant.
Tonight she invites two little girls, aged seven and eight, on to the stage and has to apologise for using the F-word. I can’t think of another star who does this. Later she asks a girl celebrating her sixteenth birthday to join her to sing a duet of the Bob Dylan classic ‘Make You Feel My Love’ from the 19 album. Adele is gracious, ‘It was really lovely to share that with you. Well done.’ This is the first time I personally have seen Adele duet.
As she says later, this is a show and not just a gig. In some ways, it’s old-fashioned entertainment, like a summertime holiday special on Great Yarmouth pier starring the late Paul Daniels, or perhaps a Christmas pantomime in which the much-missed Cilla Black would continually chat to the audience. I can imagine Adele asking us what she should do with one of her ghastly ex-boyfriends. ‘Feed him to the crocodile,’ we would shout.
She has a rare gift among modern artists of making a connection with her audience. ‘As soon as I say “Oscar”, I sound like a dickhead,’ she announces, before telling us how ‘Skyfall’ came about. At the time, she confides, she was trying to breastfeed, or ‘pumping and dumping’, as she describes it. She even encourages a Mexican wave, which is about as uncool as you can get, but emphasises her feel-good factor.
Having made sure we are on her side and part of her world, she launches into the song itself – the majesty of her voice contrasting sharply with her girl-from-Tottenham persona, all F-words and cackling laughter. I find myself looking forward to the Adele moments between the songs. She admits, ‘I’ve made a living holding onto a grudge’, and we all laugh.
She explains how she wrote ‘Million Years Ago’, one of the power ballads on 25, immediately after visiting an old friend who still lives in Tulse Hill, a mile down the road from where Adele spent her teenage years in West Norwood. She was reminded about how, every night after school, she would hang out with her friends in Brockwell Park, just off the Norwood Road, and ‘talk rubbish’. Looking back made her so sad, she wrote the song literally in minutes when she got home.
Perhaps the key moment of Adele sharing comes when she mentions Angelo, her young son, who was born in 2012: ‘He has given me so much joy, so much purpose. It has changed my life.’ I could feel she genuinely meant it.
The songs that form such an important backdrop to modern living continued, with ‘Don’t You Remember’ and ‘Chasing Pavements’ standing out. Five years ago, she tells us, things changed overnight with the performance of ‘Someone Like You’ at the BRITs. Then, it was spine-tingling. Now, it seems strangely comforting, still poignant, but with that comfy familiarity songs have when they obtain classic status. Adele says the song was her friend at a bad time. ‘It saved my life,’ she declares.
‘Fire to the Rain’ closes the main set, with Adele, thanks to special effects, caught in a downpour without an umbrella. In the old pre-mobile days, we would all have got our lighters out and let them flicker away while she sang. Struggling to light a cigarette is supposed to have given her the inspiration for the number.
The encore begins with her popping up on the small stage again. Unseen, she is carted by roadies between the two stages in a sort of wheelie bin. She starts with ‘All I Ask’, my favourite track on 25 and certainly the saddest. Fortunately, there is no sign of the sound issues that marred her performance of the song at the 2016 Grammys. It’s a breathtakingly difficult