“Diamond Life” by Sade

A sublime slice of R&B turns 40.

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Welcome to a new edition of the Best Music of All Time newsletter!

Today’s music pick celebrates Sade’s incomparable Diamond Life for its 40th anniversary.

Genre: Pop, Soul

Label: Epic

Release Date: July 16, 1984

Vibe: 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰

In 1976, Melvin Lindsey, a communications major at Howard University, was tapped to fill in for an absent DJ on WHUR-FM’s evening program. Breaking from the station’s tradition of mostly jazz and news programming, Lindsey originated the Quiet Storm show format that took its name from the eponymous Smokey Robinson track released the previous year. For the rest of the 20th century, Quiet Storm radio changed the face of R&B in America, reinvigorating interest in sultry, soulful slow jams that catered to the sensibilities of a growing black middle class. Lyrically, Quiet Storm songs moved away from overt sociopolitical commentary, favoring narratives about love, lust, and other matters of the heart. Set against smooth, jazz-inspired instrumentals, the country’s appetite for these elegant, melt-in-your-mouth ballads became insatiable. By the time the 90s rolled around, every major radio market in the United States had at least one Quiet Storm evening show.

I bring all this up because I’m not sure Sade resonates like it did without the Quiet Storm craze. Without those shifting winds in R&B, Sade may have been relegated to a more niche audience despite all the well-earned praise heaped on the group’s work. Diamond Life, in particular, seems tailor-made for those late-night listening pleasures, with straightforward, infectious grooves framing lead singer Helen Folasade Adu’s throbbing contralto perfectly. Opener “Smooth Operator” is arguably the best example of the group’s appeal in the context of Quiet Storm, with supple saxophone punctuating lyrics about a lothario that Sade can’t resist, despite his reputation (See lines like: ”He moves in space with minimum waste and maximum joy”). “I don’t think [the song is] typical of our work,” Sade told The Today Show in 2000. “But maybe without that huge sort of success — and that was very immediate, that song — we wouldn’t be in a position where we are now, just making the records we want to make.”

In hindsight, it’s frustrating to see how many critics initially missed the boat on this record. “Though there's not much range to her grainy voice or well-meaning songwriting, she and her associates put their project over, and with a fashion model's virtues--taste, concept, sound […] those who find ‘Hang On to Your Love’ and ‘Smooth Operator’ seductive (instead of just warming, like me) will think they carry the whole album,“ wrote Robert Christgau in the Village Voice. Connie Johnson noted in her Los Angeles Times review that “there’s an earthy substance to some of the cuts--not much substance, but enough to draw you back for another listen.” Those reviews miss the whole point of why music like this exists: pure vibes. Quiet Storm wasn’t trying to be Stand!, The World is a Ghetto, or What’s Going On. It exists in another silky-smooth universe, full of dimmed lights and smokey lounges, and strives to push other sensory buttons entirely.

Whatever you want to call it—R&B, soul, jazz, easy listening (ugh), adult contemporary (gag)—the craftsmanship on display is not to be underestimated. In fact, I’d go so far as to say that the first side of Diamond Life is among the decade’s best runs of studio material, regardless of genre. After “Smooth Operator,” you have the unabashedly tender “Your Love is King,” the ultra-cool mid-tempo funk of “Hang On to Your Love,” the sweaty neo-noir “Frankie’s First Affair,” and the unexpected bop that is “When Am I Going to Make a Living.” The latter paints a hopeful picture of what pursuing a creative profession means, especially if you’re stuck on the fringes.” Truisms like, “They'll waste your body and soul if you allow them to,” are counterbalanced with the singer’s version of a soothing pep talk: “We're hungry for a life we can't afford/There's no end to what you can do/If you give yourself a chance to prove.”

The closer, “Why Can’t We Live Together,” is perhaps the most potent example of how captivating Sade’s stripped-down R&B approach can be to the ear. The song, written in 1972 for Timmy Thomas, is transformed into a stunning bossa nova number that grabs you with its bassline and doesn’t let go. Over urgent organ strokes, Sade waxes poetic about racial unity, ending the album on its most political note. She bends the syllables of the opening refrain (”Tell me why, tell me why, tell me why”) to her will, a technique that she’d repeatedly use in the band’s recordings. Among the best of her career, her vocal performance reminds me of the old saying about pitching in baseball. When it’s lousy, it can sink a good team. When it’s exceptional, like Sade is throughout Diamond Life, it can catapult you to the top of the A-list.

Which, beginning in the UK, is exactly what this album did. Peaking at No. 2 on the UK Album Chart and No. 5 on the Billboard 200, this sparkling debut eventually sold over 10 million copies worldwide. That immediate commercial success would be sustained throughout much of the band’s heyday, helping it become one of the biggest-selling British acts of all time. Call it striking a chord with the right audience at the right time. Call it the residual effect of a fully-formed artistic voice out of the gate. Call it a perfect (Quiet) storm of events.

Whatever your angle, there’s no denying Diamond Life’s place among R&B's most enrapturing achievements.

👉 Don’t forget to click the album image to stream the album on your favorite platform 👈