"Frankie's First Affair" is about a charmer who falls in love, someone who now understands the people who had been infatuated with him: "You know now they really did care, 'cause it's your first affair...Where is the laughter you spat right in their faces?...It's your turn to cry." And in "When Am Going to Make A Living?" Adu sings about the ordinary working world: "They'll waste your body and soul if you allow them to," and notes: "See the people fussing and stealing, too many lies, no one is achieving. Have I told you before? We're hungry for a life we can't afford. There's no end to what you can do, if you give yourself a chance. We're hungry but we won't give in. Start believing in yourself. Put the blame on no one else." The song's last line is "Hungry but we're gonna win," and, of course, win she has.
I was never sure if "Sally," who opened her arms to many young men, was a friend, a social worker, or a sexual exploiter, as described in the song that bears her namebut in light of the male plights Adu describes and the fact that it is Adu singing, I'm inclined to think Sally's a friend: "Put your hands together for Sally. She saved all those young men...She's doing our dirty work...She's the only one who cares..." The intentions in "I Will Be Your Friend" are unmistakable. "I'll love you for a thousand years," sings Adu.
It is easy to hear how such a thematically varied work would be welcome in an English world as represented in the Hanif Kureishi/Stephen Frears films My Beautiful Laundrette
(1985) and Sammy and Rosie Get Laid
(1987). In his introduction to a collection of his screenplays, Kureishi has written, "This was the mid-1980sthat fevered time...In London new clubs and restaurants were opening to sell-out crowds. Soho was full of people making pop promos and commercials. Good newspapers and magazines were being started. Parts of London seemed gripped by money madness... Sammy and Rosie Get Laid
was an attempt to reflect the fragmentation of that time: a young affluent middle class with 1960s values gentrifying working-class areas; riots and the creation of an unemployed and alienated underclass, necessitating the growth and increasing empowerment of the police; and a Third World Muslim whose country was being Westernized, coming to the West and being bewildered by the spiritual chaos he discovers." ( London Kills Me
, Penguin Books, 1992.) In a journal about the making of Sammy and Rosie
published in the same book, Kureishi writes, "I know now that England is primarily a suburban country and English values are suburban values. The best of that is kindness and mild-temperedness, politeness and privacy, and some rather resentful tolerance. The suburbs are also a mix of people...At worst there is narrowness of outlook and fear of the different. There is cruelty by privacy and indifference...My love and fascination for inner London endures. Here there is fluidity and possibilities are unlimited." ( London Kills Me
, p. 163.) Diamond Life
, which sold about six million copies internationally, closes with Timmy Thomas's "Why Can't We Live Together?" and the band's tight groove and the pointed lyrics issue a question and a promise: "Tell me why, tell me why can't we live together? Everybody wants to live together. Why can't we be together? No more war, no more war, just a little peace. No more war, no more war. All we want is some peace in this world...No matter, no matter what color, you're still my brother."
One of the interesting things about Adu is that she hasn't become negatively entangled in the racial confusions of our time. I've never heard her asked to take sides in the usually foolish arguments involving race in America. I don't know if things are the same for her in England, Spain, Nigeria, or elsewhere. ("I try to write for the world," said the Nigerian writer Buchi Emecheta, who has long lived in England, when asked about her intended audience. Emecheta's reputation, based on books such as The Bride Price, Double Yolk,
and Second Class Citizen
, has not protected her from acrimonious personal and political attacks from fellow Nigerians. See: Interviews with Writers of the Post-Colonial World
, edited by Feroza Jussawalla and Reed Way Dasenbrock, Univ. Press of Mississippi, 1992, pgs. 85-87) Sometimes we actually do accept people for who they arerarely, it's trueand it's possible that Adu and her band are one case.