Sade turned in a seductive set at the American Airlines Center Sunday night
DALLAS Sade is an anomaly in the fast-changing world of pop music.
The 52-year-old British singer rarely tours, has only released six albums in 25 years, shuns the tabloid spotlight, and is a rarity on contemporary-hit radio playlists. Yet she still can compete with the Britneys and Gagas of the world in filling arenas around the world as she did here at the American Airlines Center Sunday night.
Yet it's perhaps because of these elements -- all underscoring her alluring understatement in an age of numbing overstatement -- that she has retained such a loyal fan base. She returned the favor with a generous two-hour set that showed her younger pop competitors that romance can still trump raunch, slow burn beats explosive pyrotechnics.
Kicking off with the sublimely militaristic funk of Soldier of Love, the title track from her most recent release, and running through much of her catalog, Sade seemed just as wonderfully fresh as when she burst onto the scene in the '80s. Her jazzy, sophisticated, late-night pop -- which sometimes can fade into wallpaper on disc -- was given a muscular undertow by the excellent eight-piece band and Sade's soulful, if limited, vocals without destroying the songs' easy sashay.
The torchy elements of such ballads as Jezebel and Is It a Crime were ramped up while the slightly more uptempo songs, such as No Ordinary Love, were given a rock edge by guitarists Stewart Matthewman and Ryan Waters. The smartly designed set, which included an ingenious use of screens, light, and shadow, emphasized the emotionally smoky, retro atmosphere and made the cavernous AAC feel a bit more intimate.
But the focus remained squarely on Sade who kept everyone rapt through four costume changes which meant she would be offstage for minutes at a time. By channeling the spirit of a generation of female singers like Billie Holiday that came before her and combining it with a more modern musical and emotional sensibility, Sade proved the old maxim that less -- less tawdriness, less vulgarity -- can be much, much more.
Sade's classic style was perfectly complemented by opening act John Legend. He too eschewed sex for seduction, opening his hour set with Rolling in the Deep, the Adele song that mirrors the cosmopolitan soul that both Sade and Legend have long championed. That spirit was maintained as he went into his own rich catalog, from the finger-popping swing Green Light to the hip-grinding groove of Slow Dance.
