Mid-Morning in San Diego, and Bryan Adams is in his hotel room taking his breakfast. It’s a simple affair of toast and a pot of coffee, and a side of fruit. Before tucking in, he asks deferentially: “You don’t mind if I eat while we talk?” So far, so very Bryan Adams. For most of a career in music spanning six decades, the now 63-year-old has been perceived as precisely this: unfussy, unshowy, plain normal. An everyman who just happens to have been vegan for 34 years and since before it was generally known what that even meant.
Adams has hardly ever troubled to tilt at this impression of him. Indeed, he professes not to mind it a bit. Yet it undermines him. Regular Joes don’t tend to sell upwards of 100 million records, as Adams has done. Much less score multiple Grammy (16), Oscar and Golden Globe (three apiece) nominations. In his native Canada he’s the recipient of 20 Juno Awards and an inductee into the Canadian Music Hall Of Fame. Not long ago his best-loved song, Summer Of ’69, racked up its billionth stream on Spotify.
