“Is it a Crime?” Why the Answer to Sade’s Question is ‘YES’… and ‘NO’

Never date an artist for a bruised soul, a broken heart, and recurring denial is all they have to offer. Sade’s “Is it a Crime?” isn’t just a fantastic song: it’s a cautionary tale!

Artist – SADE

Song – “Is it a Crime?”

Album – Promise (1985)

When I first thought about adding Sade to my list of Undateables, the first song that sprang to mind was “No Ordinary Love”. That video… So much suffering! It broke my young heart at the time. But then, I was getting out of the shower the other day when “Is It a Crime?” started playing on my phone from a random Spotify playlist. Well, not entirely random because… algorithms. Anyway, this time, the lyrics struck me differently.

I was singing my heart out, as one does with that track, when it suddenly hit me: this is no rhetorical question. This query demands a complete answer. And Sade Adu sounds desperate to get it for the number of times she repeats the words “Is it a Crime?”. I had naïvely assumed the answer was obvious, considering her predicament: falling in love with the wrong person, especially of the scoundrel type.

So, what’s the answer then: Is it… a crime? Yes… and no. I’ll clarify it in a moment. Firstly, Sade, the band, and an album that lived up to its promise.

Sade: the singer, the band, and their second album

Sade are, undoubtedly, one of my favourite bands. They were quite active in the 1980s (three great albums in a decade), but after Love Deluxe (1992), they’ve become the Daniel Day-Lewis of music: they only release new work once in a blue moon. Dedicated fans, like me, have learned to wait patiently for their next release, with no expectations about a specific date (by date, I mean year). For instance, Sade’s last album is from 2010, Soldier of Love.

This group is the perfect representation of the artistic spirit, where art takes precedence over everything else: fans’ desires, commercial pressure, or external deadlines. Integrity and authenticity are the foundation of their work, as Sade Adu put it quite clearly:

“I only make records when I feel I have something to say. I’m not interested in releasing music just for the sake of selling something. Sade is not a brand”.

Sade Adu

Well, after a pandemic, lockdowns, and a world that went upside down for a couple of years, I hope Sade has found something to say. Or sing! In 2020 the band hinted that something new was coming, but… we’re still waiting. Patiently. For a new album. For twelve years, now. No pressure, though: Sade, take as long as you need. We know that our hearts will be replenished with joy and comfort when that album finally drops. It would be nice if you could release it before Will Smith is allowed back to the Oscars, but we’ll support you either way. We just miss the warm jazzy voice that has exposed the perils of falling in love since the 1980s. Yet, Sade is more than an indelible, cool, romantic, husky, smooth, sensual voice. Sade is, simply put, a great band!

Is it Sade, the band, or Sade’s band?

It took me several years to figure out that Sade was a band and not a solo artist. Firstly, I was only a child when I listened to their music for the first time, and the music videos didn’t help to clarify the issue. Secondly, the group’s name added to the confusion, as it’s the same as the vocalist’s. Therefore, even to this day, I can’t help thinking about Sade as the group of Sade Adu.

Also, despite being a fan, it’s not true that I’m that dedicated. Saying that is unfair to all Sade’s record collectors. To be honest, my knowledge of the band’s work is mainly based on two albums: The Best of Sade (1994) and Lovers Rock (2000). The first is a timeless collection of Sade’s greatest songs, and the second was a birthday gift for my sister, which I may or may not have bought as a real gift for myself.

I’m doing a mea culpa here, but I still remember when buying music was quite expensive. No wonder mixtapes were so popular back then. It’s not like we had many other options available if we wanted to listen to our favourite artists. There were the record shops, MTV (for those who had cable), and the radio. Now that times have changed and there’s Spotify (still shamelessly chasing after a sponsorship here), I used the streaming service to improve my knowledge of Sade’s discography before I began to write this post. And what a delight it was to listen to the entire Promise (1985) album for the first time!

Promise: a successful sophomore album

It’s so reassuring to know that our new favourite band or artist can show consistency and their early success was not a fluke! Sade’s sophomore album ran counter to the long history of disappointing second albums by impressing critics and fans alike. Promise gave us unforgettable tunes such as “The Sweetest Taboo” (this one also deserves a post), “Jezebel”, “Never as Good as the First Time” and, obviously, “Is It a Crime?”.

Besides the quality of the tracks, what also caught my attention was the whole atmosphere that Promise creates. Almost 40 years after its launch, Sade’s second album conserves the freshness they brought to the musical landscape in the 1980s. From beginning to end, Promise encircles us in an intimate environment, which I picture it being a small bar in a vibrant cosmopolitan city. The whole album is a special performance for a receptive audience eager to listen to niftily crafted music. But there’s no fuss, no overwhelming emotions, no extreme reactions. The audience is as cool and laid-back as the band about to take the stage.

A smokey room, where the scent of tobacco overpowers all the others, except for the alcohol at the bar and the occasional whiff of perfume that an attractive face leaves behind. An unexpected combination of all the odours blends into the music and creates a unique, safe, and creative space, where musical talent and storytelling combine forces to produce a magical show. There’s not a single soul in that bar that cannot relate to the stories being sung, as they hide their true feelings of pain, anguish, and yearning behind brave faces and oversized clothes embellished with shoulder pads. Sade’s concert was the balm they needed that day to soothe their souls.

So, is it?… A crime?

When I got to the last song of the album Promise, “Maureen”, I realised that streaming services have indeed impacted the way I listen to music. Album sequencing is essential to artists and should also be to fans. Because I listened to Promise in the order it was meant to be listened to, I got that feeling of being at an exclusive Sade show. I’m not even sure if that was the intention of the band. But even if it wasn’t, I’m grateful for this unexpected gift.

So, looking at the ‘set list’, “Is It a Crime?” is the perfect opener. The short yet powerful saxophone intro sets the tone for a voyage to the depths of Sade’s heart and soul (not sure if the band or the vocalist’s). There will be pain (“Is It a Crime?”), tremendous satisfaction (“The Sweetest Taboo”) and sensible advice. If you think your friend’s new beau is unsuited, do not end your friendship by telling them that. Just play “Mr Wrong” to them, and hopefully, they’ll get the message.

“Is It a Crime?” definitely stands out for the unexpected intensity. Contrary to Sade’s traditional material, in this track, Sade Adu steps outside a smooth, relaxed and restrained comfort zone to expose the emotional roller coaster that possesses her senses and reason. The rhythm alternation within the song and the variation between low and high notes say everything we need to know about the character’s state of mind. Then the repeated question, reinforced with that final appeal, “Tell me… Is it a Crime?”, heightens the sense of urgency and the desperation in her voice. So, is it?… A crime?

“Oh Sade, honey… Who’s going to tell her?”

Let’s go back to the scene where I’m getting out of the shower and “Is It a Crime?” is playing on my phone. Well, despite having listened and sung to this song repeatedly, this time I reacted with “Oh, Sade… honey!”, followed by “Who’s going to tell her”? Hearing her ask the same question over and over again struck a chord with me that day.

I sympathise with her situation. I honestly do. Everyone is bound to find themselves in the same predicament: falling in love with the wrong person. Actually, I dare say that’s more common than finding the right match. Otherwise, dating wouldn’t be such an ordeal. But that’s a topic for another blog post.

As I said before, the answer to this somewhat tricky question is yes… and no. Let’s not pretend to be naïve about it: we know full well that, nine times out of ten, “yes” is the correct answer to “Is it a Crime?”. I’ve just come up with this statistic, but I’m pretty sure I’m right. Just think about all the times you asked yourself the question, and you’ll know that you probably did it while denying the facts and suppressing your gut instinct.

In “Is It a Crime?”, Sade shows she may have lost her mind for being in love with someone who most likely doesn’t share the same feeling, but she clings to something far more important to her at that moment: hope.

Is it a crime?
Is it a crime
That I still want you
And I want you to want me too?

Oh, Sade… honey!… These words tell me all I need to know about the gravity of the situation. Who hasn’t been through this?

Yes, it is a crime! And no, it isn’t!

Now, I feel I should be talking to all the Sades out there or those going through a similar “Is it a Crime?” moment. Wishing someone you love to want you too is not a crime; it’s an expectable human desire. The issue arises when love is not reciprocated and the other person is not clear about their feelings. Offering someone who loves you even a spark of hope when you don’t feel the same is distastefully cruel.

So, I’ll say this: it’s not a crime to love the wrong person. It is, however, a regretful waste of time. It becomes a crime, though, when you stop loving yourself. If your love for the other person is “Taller than the Empire State”, then your self-love must be taller than Burj Khalifa. Beware of the smooth operators; otherwise, you’ll end up trying to justify unwise choices by saying questionable things like “This is No Ordinary Love”, “Nothing Can Come Between Us” or “Hang on To Your Love”. One can learn valuable lessons from heartbreak, but let’s not make a way of life out of it.

Never date an artist if you don’t want to be the one hanging on to the wrong kind of love. That’s a crime that will deprive you of reason and severely punish your heart and soul.

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