Adele’s much-anticipated, record-breaking album “25” came out Friday, Nov. 20, and the music world was wide-eyed and ready to get our hearts both broken and mended by Adele’s latest. For seven days, I listened to the album and forced others to as well. Here is a catalogue of how it happened:
Day one.
It is Saturday, Nov. 21. I am a day late receiving Adele’s latest piece of artistry, “25.” All I’ve had for the past 24 hours to satiate my need for Adele are “19” and “21.” In one hour I will drive to The End of All Music to buy my first CD in months.
Around 10:30 a.m., I am pulling out from The End of All Music. I have ripped through the plastic seals and replaced “21” with “25” in my car’s stereo. Bass. “Hello,” she croons. “Hello” I sing in unison. It’s about time.
As I head home to Flowood, I play the rest of the virgin CD. Since Adele opted out of streaming “25,” I am limited to listening to it in any empty CD player I can find. This is my week’s main challenge. After listening to it all the way through, I am filled with love. It’s only going to get better with time. I hear the last track as I am headed South down Interstate 55. I instantly know this one will become a favorite. I notice some uplifting guitar riffs juxtaposed with a much richer, more mature sound from Adele. These are good things.
Day two.
I wake up feeling a little groggy and down. I make plans to head into Jackson and visit with my friend Eve. I know she hasn’t purchased “25” yet because, like me, she is a loyal Spotify user. I can’t wait to see her reaction.
As soon as Eve sat in my passenger seat, she picked up the album. I smiled knowingly as I skipped “Hello”– right on to the unheard business. As I am driving through Fondren, at “Send My Love (To Your New Lover),” Eve is staring past the dashboard wistfully into some outer space I can’t make out or imagine. “Ah,” she mutters. “Another breakup album for me.” She then embraces the CD case and Adele’s flawless face and perfect cat-eye-lined eyes.
This can definitely be filed under “break-up albums.” However, it also pulses with the strength and empowerment of moving on and growing up.
Day three.
Today, I am running errands before my family leaves to visit more family in Bridgeport, Alabama. Happy to take this opportunity to skip out on the hustle and bustle of my family’s packing rituals, I gleefully plan to listen to “25” about 25 times through. At this point, I have clearly chosen my favorite songs, though listening to the entire album is a beautiful experience. I find that skipping to “Hello,” “Water Under the Bridge,” “River Lea” and “Sweetest Devotion” yields the greatest mood shift. I feel as if these songs, especially “River Lea,” take me to the deepest depths of Adele’s roots. Because of the quick, hard-hitting pace of these tracks, my car speed increases far above my 5 mph-over policy. I am beginning to think that I might get pulled over for recklessly jamming to Adele.
I have a quasi-spiritual moment on my way to Madison while listening to “Sweetest Devotion.” I decide that I am Adele and also her backup singers. I feel as if I embody her, but I am also watching her feel everything simultaneously. I sing mercilessly and unceasingly. I sing to a person I cannot see in a white truck with a license plate that reads, “bn2hunt.” Adele is for us all.
I decide that my favorite part of the album is “Sweetest Devotion” and its transition back to “Hello.”
Day four.
Today, I am traveling. I am sure that, for the entirety of the 7-hour drive, I will only be able to play “25” once. People are saying Adele’s album sales will surpass the highest ever (NSYNC’s “No Strings Attached” in 2000). What else could be expected from the most anticipated album of 2015?
I finally convince my family to play the album during the drive. At first, my mother isn’t too impressed, but I can tell she begins to appreciate it after a while.
“This’ll be good after a couple glasses of wine,” she says.
One of the songs, “A Million Years Ago,” sounds familiar, and with a little googling we find out that many people had made the same observation. “Yesterday” by Roy Clark is the musical doppelganger of “A Million Years Ago.” After the album ends, I hold up my “21” album. “Eh?”
I am rejected. It was a good run, though.
When we arrive at Gran’s, I tell her about my project. She reminds me that she had actually bought “19” for me during an album sale in a little antique store in south Pittsburgh that isn’t open anymore.
Tomorrow is Aunt Judy’s annual Christmas party. I ask if I can bring the album to play. She replies, “Oh honey, I have it.”
Day five.
We are preparing hors d’oeuvres for Aunt Judy’s party and listening to Adele. We listen to the album three times through during our pregame.
I can’t convince many people to listen to the album again once the party starts. We listen to Susan Boyle’s Christmas album and then take a vote to see who wants to listen to Adele again. She earned three votes: Me, my Gran and my mother because “she’s my daughter.” Oh well.
I am making plans to commandeer Gran’s DVD player during Thanksgiving tomorrow…
Day six.
I wake up excited because I know I will stuff my face with all the food and Adele that I can.
I also brace myself for a day of hectic Thanksgiving rituals and family spats. I hope that I can solve all of them with Adele, as in this brilliant SNL skit. Of course, I’m more worried about college football arguments than political arguments. Just as the last dish arrives on Gran’s table, I smile slyly and turn on “25,” changing the input on the TV so football is no longer on. Luckily, no one seems to care. “25” makes an excellent background to eating copious amounts of fried okra, mashed potatoes and other Thanksgiving delicacies. This should probably count as a record for the longest amount of time Gran’s TV was on something other than football during Thanksgiving. I’ve done my job well.
Day seven.
I am at a charity auction and party in a cabin on the side of a ridge. After trying several times to request that the band play a song, any song, by Adele, I have to give up trying because I’m going to embarrass my father in front of his friends. He leads me to a group of women inside.
“Here, Zoe, ask them about Adele,” he says.
Me: “So, uh, what do you think of Adele’s new album.”
Bridgeport women: “We love Adele.” “She can do no wrong.”
They also tell me that “25” served as a break-up album for one of their own. I ask if someone in the band can possibly cover Adele. One of the women replies with, “No, he doesn’t do Adele.”
Me: “Oh. Okay,” I say before swiftly disappearing.
Post week:
For a week full of Adele, I didn’t cry once. This turn of events is surprising, because just a few years ago, I couldn’t get through “Someone Like You” without bursting into tears as soon as Adele went into her belt range. More than anything, I felt empowered by “25.” These songs are timeless, and proof, more than anything, that Adele understands what it means to be human— to feel. By the end of the seven days, I knew the words to almost every song. I also caught almost every family member and friend singing along at least once. Judging by the growing number of records that Adele has broken (3.38 million copies were sold in the first week, the most ever counted), “25” will be a timeless go-to for us all.
