Sins. Secrets. Dirty laundry. Skeletons in the closet. We all have them; even your trusty E! News editors. We'll be taking to this column to confess our pop culture sins of all types. Because even the most pop cultured people can accidentally forget to watch Stranger Things, or find themselves totally lost when it comes to Lost, or, without rhyme or reason, hate Harry Potter. It happens to the best of us, and we know we're not alone with these dirty little secrets. That's exactly why we're sharing them with you (anonymously, that is). This is a safe space, right?
Hello from the other side. The sick and twisted side of the population that, no matter how hard we try, cannot seem to get into Adele. That's right. I said it. I can't get into Adele. I'll spell it out one more time for those still in shock. I don't understand her music, I can't wrap my head around the hype, and I fail to grasp how to perfect her trademark winged eyeliner. If you're thinking of hate-tweeting me right now, fire away. I'm seeing my therapist this weekend to help me deal with the potential repercussions of writing this piece.
I must start this off by saying this article isn't negating her talent, nor is it a dig at her character. This has nothing to do with her as a person or how hard she's worked to get where she is today. I am perfectly aware that she is so fantastic, she could sell an album comprised of fart sounds. This beef is purely between me, myself, and my inability to understand why I can't just be like every other Adele-worshipping, son-of-a-biscuit out there.
To get a better understanding of my anti-Adele angst, I asked a few of my Facebook friends to explain if and why they enjoy her work. Most expressed their appreciation for her music's ability to make them feel deep and powerful emotions, presumably of sadness and hurt. Friends who were not fans, however, argued that her music lacks genuine emotion, or that her songs are so emotional, they've just become annoying. A friend of mine, Sarah, perfectly summarized those thoughts when she shared with me her 3-year-old's catch phrase; "Stop crying like you're Adele."
After much thought, I came to a few conclusions in regards to why I can't jump on the Adele train. The primary theme being that I have enough of my own tragic emotions to sort through (like the fact that Stranger Things isn't coming back until next year, or that time my parents lost me at Disney World back in '92), that I don't need to be forcefully injected with Adele's.
Think about it. Why would I want to listen to something that awakens the emo feelings I've spent years detoxing via bushels of kale and Ayurvedic Meditation?
Why is her music so effing sad, anyway? Along those same lines, why do so many people collectively choose to float in an Adele-flavored tear tub like it's the goddamn community pool at the YMCA? Why would I put myself through that just because the masses tell me I'm wrong not to? Was it not Adele herself who asked, "Who wants to be right as rain?"
I'm roughly the same age as Adele, and nothing she's singing about is news to me. In just this article alone I've already said hello from the other side and refused to be right as rain. In my lifetime I've sent my love to someone like you, rolled around in the deep, chased a bunch of pavement and still had time to come up with all of these Adele puns. Additionally, I am proficient in setting fire to the rain each time I finish a Chalupa from Taco Bell. In other words, I've been there, done that, and don't need Adele's glittering pipes to remind me of any of it. Is that so wrong?
I understand wanting to cry alone to sepia-toned music videos after a long, hard day. What I don't understand is why every grocery store, elevator, and doctors office want to provide us with the trigger music to do so in public. Take "Rolling in the Deep," for example. Adele sings, "The scars of your love remind me of us. They keep me thinking that we almost had it all." Christ. No, thank you. Who wants to hear that while they wait for test results at Planned Parenthood?