

But on 30, Adele has curated a museum exhibit of her innards (sorry for the graphic visual). It’s a foghorn of perceived failure - I say “perceived” because ending a marriage is NOT actually failure - that makes you feel flayed alive, and you worry a lot that everyone else can see your internal organs.

She is unmatched at communicating raw emotion. But what makes Adele such a force - still, all these years later - is that I don’t think you have to have experienced a major separation to feel what she’s feeling here. And sure, you could argue that I relate because I, too, have experienced a divorce in my early 30s.

Adele captures the entire spectrum on 30. You feel some impossible mixture of guilt, relief, depression, anxiety, excitement - it’s all there, and you have no control over when you’re going to feel what, or for how long. Intellectually, you know that something like half of all marriages end in divorce, and just what makes you so special, anyway? And if those are the statistics, why do you still feel like such a loser? Say your life is a train traveling cross-country from New York to California, but right at Nebraska, you stand up and yank the emergency brake. Unlike Adele, we didn’t share a child - we barely shared a bank account - but just the act of separating from a person you agreed to spend your entire life with, in front of all of your closest friends and family, is, and there is no elegant way to say it, a total mindfuck. Because I guess you could say that I went through my own Saturn Return a few years ago, and it also included divorce. Saying you don’t like Adele is kind of like saying you don’t like animals those people exist, but I worry about them. Since around 2008, Adele has been breaking records (her 2011 sophomore album 21 remains the best-selling album of this century) and blowing minds with her tremendous voice and a knack for lyrics that feel both personal and universal. As Adele succinctly put it on Instagram Live, 30 is mainly about “divorce, babe” - specifically her divorce from Simon Konecki, with whom she shares a nine-year-old son, Angelo, and had been with since 2011. The point is, Adele has undergone a mammoth change, and 30, which follows 2015’s bestselling 25, is a snapshot of her coming apart and piecing herself back together.

Which is basically just some astrological gobbledegook to explain why people tend to go through major life shifts between the ages of 27 to 32. I’ve never been that plugged into the planets, but the way Adele talks about Saturn Returns in interviews promoting her gut punch of a new album, 30, doesn’t not make me a believer.Ī Saturn Return, to which No Doubt also memorably dedicated their 2000 album, is when the titular ringed planet circles back to the same ecliptic longitude where it stood at the moment of your birth. Maybe I’m saying this because I live in Adele’s adopted city of Los Angeles, or maybe it’s because people my age and younger really like horoscopes and birth charts, but: I’m pretty sure that I believe in the Saturn Return.
