Barefoot Goddess

The Ambassador of Cool know simply as Sade brought the house up last night at the AArena Downtown Miami. It's been ten years since her last show in South Florida and, boy has she most def still Got It. Why does she return to the swamp? Because we desperately need a dose of true cool. Her hot benevolence is our refreshment.

Some say that 'black don't crack' and like a Benin Bronze, the British Nigerian remains unchanged through the years. Her unique brand of smoothy R&B and melancholy lyrics continue to sooth the savage beast and comfort weary hearts with deep world vibes unrivaled in todays stage of musical devolution.

Sade and her core band members have remained in tact where scores of other popular groups slip down the drain of mass culture. Her growing fan base is sophisticated and unwavering in the understanding that this soulful music is just the right medicine for modern distractions and afflictions of heartache.

The tears shed are real. The eyes of this goddess are the wellspring of our redemption. The voice is the sound of ancient sirens here to bless our senses with comfort and hope.

Sade will bring the house down only to raise it up high with bonafide genuine cool. The production is top notch, a 360 from the garishness of Spears and U2 type pyro-jazz that proliferates todays concertscape.

A solitary figure, she stands alone with such royal presence as if to say, 'fear not, i will vanish your pain now'.

The roots of the sound are etched on the hides of time. The remarkable tats of Paul Denman.

Saxy as ever, Stuart Matthewmman surrounded by fans after the show.

Mrs. Swampthing with that other man, Maxwell.

Grooving on these freckles is like gazing at a brilliant night sky shimmering with a constellation of heavenly bodies that anchor us to the universe with reliabliability for eternity.

Long Live Sade Adu.

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