Open Letter to Adele

Dear Ms. Adkins,

Hello and happy holidays! I write to you today for several reasons, not the least of which is to praise you for your album 21,. I quite literally cannot stop playing it in my car while driving. (And if I'm honest, I play it frequently in my car without driving. Like on my lunch break. Or in my parents' driveway like a total rom-com single girl cliche.) But I'd be remiss if I didn't address a few other points.

I'm grateful to you for bringing back liquid liner, faux lashes, and hairspray usage. Some American celebrities who will absolutely remain nameless have taken to wearing faux lashes on their bottom lids or allowing their hairstyles to be influenced by Sarah Palin or Nicole "Snooki" Polizzi. I find it repellent. But, when you do it, it just looks bangin'. Keep it up. Your live performance at Royal Albert Hall gave us a reminder of Cindy Crawford's hair in the "House of Style" days, and I mean that in a good way. Velcro rollers, what.

I'm grateful to you for towing the line for the alabaster among us. I'll admit that I've fallen prey to the siren call of the airbrush tan or Tarte's Park Avenue Princess bronzer. But, underneath, I'm fair-skinned and proud of it. Snow White never got Mystic'd and things turned out pretty well for her.

I'm grateful to you for dressing like a lady. I've been puzzled since Madonna wore that Jean-Paul Gaultier conical bra, so you can just imagine the cognitive dissonance that Lady Gaga or Nicki Minaj have caused.

I'm grateful to you for fucking BELTING when there are too many female vocalists who play it coy because they don't have the pipes to back it up. (Yes, Rihanna and Katy Perry, I'm referring to you. Get your shit right.) Popular culture has brought us some incredible male vocalists over the years. There are men who can sing like Clapton can play a guitar. Sam Cooke and Freddy Mercury always come to mind. But there's nothing like a woman who steps up to the microphone and, without any tricks or cop-outs, can level an audience with just pure power and talent. I listen to your live performances and I just want to punch Ke$ha in the face.

I'm grateful that your lyrical content is organic and candid. You're not making up songs to titillate or make an easy buck. (Ri, Katy, I'm still referring to you. "S&M", "California Girls", really? No, but really?) You're singing about regret, rejection, desire, and heartbreak and I fucking dig it. The women that came before you, the original torch singers, the soul sisters, the ones who could bust down the doors with a single note-- they can rest easy for now.

Ok, now, about 21. If I never hear another album that is as intense, as satisfying, as moving, and as just totally fucking good, I genuinely think I'll be alright with it. I really wish that you'd included something boring and derivative, just one track that I felt compelled to skip, because then maybe I'd be less of a crazypants about 21. But, alas, we all have crosses to bear.

Lastly, I just want to extend my sympathies about the Glee cast's performance of "Rolling in the Deep". Yes, Lea Michele and Jonathon Groff can both sing. No, they are not without talent. But, their performance of it was a classic "is nothing sacred!?" moment, not unlike the casting of Ann Hathaway in the role of Fantine in the upcoming film adaptation of Les Miserables. Gwyneth Paltrow's version of "Turning Tables" and that kick-ass mash-up of "Rumour Has It" and "Someone Like You" are different stories altogether. But, Spring Awakening-does-Adele was just too much for me. And I'm sorry that you and your millions of fans were subjected to that dross.

Is it weird that I have a vivid recurring daydream of singing "I'll Be Waiting" to a packed house at a downtown club venue, dedicating the song to one of a number of men in my life? (Sometimes, it's an actual guy I know whose children I would happily bear; sometimes, it's one of a few celebrities with whom I can picture having an on-and-off-again love affair.) I've been rehearsing in my car on a regular basis should this opportunity present itself, and I hope that I'll do you proud.

Best wishes for a lovely holiday season,

*Dana

PS If it helps, your choices to pay tribute to some of the great music that came before you are not lost on me. The torch singer, Tin Pan Alley, Wall of Sound, and honest-to-God Delta blues-- what a refreshing departure from the robotic Ryan Tedderization of pop music. If you want to hang out with Ronnie Spector or write an album with some of the OG Brill Building songwriters, it would be awesome. Get it, girl.