Sade: Soldier of Love

Music has changed immeasurably since Sade released her debut album in 1984, but she has glided along, oblivious, never diverging from her unruffled, silk-lined pop-soul style. Soldier of Love, only her sixth album (and first in a ­decade), has the usual hallmarks – ­lushness and understatement, balanced by lyrics of surprising transparency, and few signs of engagement with the rest of the pop world. The only evidence the record was made this century is the title track's skittering electronic beat, yet it never feels retro – perhaps because Sade sings as if the songs mean a good deal to her. She's "quiet storm" personified as she reproaches an ex-lover on The Moon and the Sky, and girlishly marvels at her attraction to "this young boy" on the near-reggaeish Babyfather. (But what's this nonsense on the latter about ­"waiting for a bus"? Surely Sade doesn't do buses). Lovely listening.