The artist of my life

Adele

Hello you,

How’s your week been? Have you gone back to that thing you were postponing?

Quite a few new people have found me around here and I’m so thankful. Welcome, welcome, hello.

I thought it may be useful to do a new ‘introduction to Janelle’ post.

I could tell you that I’m 34, married to T, I used to work in PR which was good and also soul crushing, we’re child-free and recently made a big move from the city (Manchester) to the countryside. Oh, and I love writing.

Hmm, what else can I tell you?

I know! I’ll tell you about the artist of my life.

A very joyously happy, open-mouthed Janelle (short bleached hair and dark framed glasses) with a picture of Adele performing at the Albert Hall

Let me take you back to 2008. I’m sitting on a National Express coach, enroute to Newcastle-Upon-Tyne. I’m heading back to uni having gone home unexpectedly because my Grandad Bill has died. Silly, loving, game-inventing, alive Grandad Bill. I’ll never see him again in his chair by the window at number 13.  

I’m wearing my boyfriend’s black H&M hoodie. It’s pulled up over my face to hide my tears. He is away in Australia having ‘life experiences’. I miss him and his smell and his skin so much it’s a constant background hum. My tummy and organs ache in swirled-up confusion and sadness. This is grief, my first real experience of it. Not that anyone at home has used that sort of word or really spoken about what’s happened.

One person really is here for me right now. She is adept at helping me feel what I need to feel. She is right here in my ears. Her name is Adele.

I have recently discovered her album, 19. I am 19. I’ve got these songs on repeat on my mp3 player as I lean my head against the bus window and watch fields go by. Her voice, that resonant voice, wraps me up like the protective arms I so need. She feels the pain, just like I do.

Five months after this shock-cold bucket of sadness an even bigger one comes along. It’s more like an ocean and this time I’ve seen it coming. The anticipation of this loss has been heavy in my bones. Every day is grey, monotonous and tear-stained, filled with cruel reminders of the person I am in deep, obsessive love with.

I’ve been dumped.

I turn up at my department store job to hear which café I’m in today. It’s the worst one. The one in the basement with the biggest wall-clock you’ve ever seen in your life so you can’t miss the passing of a single minute. My job is to collect blue plastic trays on a trolley. On every tray, I see his face.

I later find a video on Youtube that explains everything I feel. (In my head it was at this time but looking at the dates, this isn’t actually the case. False memories eh?)

Adele is performing a new song on Jools Holland. The backdrop is black. It’s just her with her pianist (Eric). Her baggy black jumper has been upgraded to a nice frock. Her hair is still voluminous but a bit more tamed and shiny. A spotlight illuminates her black-lined eyes and she starts to sing.

 “I heard that you’re settled down, that you found a girl, that you’re married now…”

I am mesmerised and blurry eyed and heartsore. When I go home, I open my laptop and show the video to Mum. I say it’s because she’s got to hear this incredible artist whom I adore. But it’s also my way of showing her how I’ve been.

              “She just gets it, Mum. She’s heartbroken.”

My Facebook status 24 January 2011. Simply Adele with a heart emoji

In April 2011, I’m looking up at a stage featuring a fringed lamp like the one in my parent’s living room. I’m at the 21 tour. I am 21.

This time I’m hearing that same song live. Adele is holding her acoustic guitar and starts playing the famous riff.

“This is how I wrote it,” she tells us. “Just on this guitar.”

She starts singing and all 2,300 of us chorus it back to her, word perfect. She cries and tells us she can’t believe that we all know it.

My best mate Ashley and I had got the tickets the day they came out for about £20. Between the tickets being released and this April evening, Adele has sung at the Brits, a performance that changed her life and ours. Earlier, I bumped into an acquaintance who’d paid £200 for her ticket on eBay.

Thankfully, this was the days before decent camera phones. I’ve got no pictures or footage of this night at Leeds o2 Academy, just memories. With her now famous cackle, Adele told us that she tried to buy a handbag in Harvey Nicks but was mortified that her card was declined. The f-bombs flew out of her mouth and she apologised to the parent with the little kid on their shoulders. She started Turning Tables again because it went wrong and we bloody adored her for it.

I have a million examples of how my life is punctuated perfectly by her music. Adele’s age albums (19, 21, 25 and 30) match my own life timeline. I sung When We Were Young at our wedding. (Oh, by the way I married the boy who dumped me. It’s all good).

Me singing Adele’s When We Were Young with our band The Rumour Mill at our wedding.

When 30 came out, I was quarantining at home with Covid. I walked up, down and around the garden, the dawn sky pink and orange above me as I revelled and delighted in hearing THE voice singing brand new songs. How perfect was the lyric in track one, Strangers by Nature?

“I’ve never seen the sky this colour before, It's like I'm noticing everythin' a little bit more.”

And I’ll never forget clutching onto my sobbing best friend, Mollie, as Adele serenaded us with Make You Feel My Love at Hyde Park.

My childhood bezzie Mollie joyously grinning at the camera as the sun sets behind her and thousands of others. We’re at Hyde Park to see Adele

(I actually have a video of myself screaming, swearing and crying into my phone camera when I got these tickets. Trust me when I say I was not okay. You don’t need to see it…No, that would not be advisable to share…)

Adele has gifted me so many of these moments.

Of course, I’m joined in my fandom by a fair few others. Just like I hear Adele singing directly into my soul, so do millions (billions?) of others.

That’s what she does to us.

I have come of age with Adele and her songs. She’s been with me through it all. 

Adele, thank you. I love you.

You are the artist of my life.

So, there you go. You know me a bit better now.

Who is the artist of your life? I’d be honoured to know.

Janelle x