One of those intermittent social media posts celebrating a record’s anniversary caught my eye this week. According to the superior Californian music site, midtempo.co, it is 40 years since the release of Sade’s exquisite debut, Diamond Life. These spurious album birthdays usually pass me by, but there is still something so unhurried and undercelebrated about Diamond Life, I felt compelled to post my own little tribute.
In an instant I was reminded of being 12 years old, growing up in suburban Manchester, hearing a highly stylised invocation of London, translated through the eyes of an unforgettable young star. Sade emerged with a whole world intact. My first thoughts were the ludicrousness of wondering what the inside of The Wag Club looked like at that age. Then something a little more life-changing. Diamond Life is the noise that percolates through my muscle memory every time I get off the 55 bus and wander into Soho. It is the record that sold London to me.
