The Quietest Masterpiece in Sade’s Discography

With ‘Be That Easy’, Sade effortlessly captures modern romance.

In 2010, Sade’s Soldier of Love was released, blessing us with the return of the quiet storm a short decade after 2000’s Lovers Rock. It seems the band and lead singer, Sade Adu, wanted to one-up their previous eight-year hiatus. Whether active or on leave, though, Sade’s work has dutifully served as an undercurrent of inspiration since their arrival in 1984. Their catalogue seamlessly glides across genres, pulling from jazz-tinged sophisti-pop, bossa nova soul, ambient R&B, and reggae. Those early ’80s and ’90s records get the most love, and for good reason. They’re undeniable. Adu’s vocals ooze the same comfort as being under a warm blanket. The production feels so soothing and yet so full of life.

Unfortunately, the aforementioned 21st-century releases received less reverence. While not panned, reception was divided. This is especially true of Soldier of Love. Comments centred around it being a little too samey or forgettable compared to previous works. Be it the mixed reviews or simply lower streaming numbers, many of its best moments tend to go unnoticed.

Now, I won’t attempt the argument that it is Sade’s best album, but by no means should it be disregarded. One of Sade’s most gut-wrenching and sincere tracks sits wedged in the number six spot on Soldier: one that represents the pinnacle of effective songwriting and touches on the most fundamental reasons we choose to listen.

‘Be That Easy’, nestled at the album’s midpoint, holds a kind of bittersweet tension that pervades the entire record. It acknowledges harsh reality. It knows that life will continue to beat you down. But the album and each song on it are also about the titular idea of love, especially that of a partner and a mother. With that in mind, it doesn’t dwell.

The track was written by Stuart Matthewman, the band’s guitarist, saxophonist, and Adu’s longtime co-writer, and Sade Adu. Pulling from jazz harmony, gospel, soul, and even the blues to an extent, it weaves together a slow ballad of love and loss: that saying that every song is about love or loss rings true here, since this one is both. What does it actually sound like? Answering that necessitates you listen, but put simply: instrumentation is soft and slow, focused only on a strummed acoustic guitar, a crisp electric guitar, light drum hits, an organ, and a tambourine. Adu’s clear vocals appear to be in two layers, one panned to the left in a lower register and one to the right in a higher. The vocal harmonies are so lush that in those moments where they suddenly dissipate, stark vulnerability follows.

To geek out for a second, the sonic structure of the song is masterfully simple, yet perfectly on theme. It’s built on a tug-of-war: the music stays rooted in a bright major key yet keeps swapping moodier minor chords into its jazzy progression. In those rare moments when it comes back to the bright sound, you land back home with brief assurance. By the end, it refuses to resolve, instead circling back through those minor chords. To understand why is to grasp what Sade relays lyrically.

In a sense, ‘Be That Easy’ is straightforward. You don’t need a dictionary and a doctorate to get what Adu is saying. There is power in its candour, in the universality of the love it describes. Whether a relationship already gone by or now drastically different, it grapples with placing your most vulnerable self in the arms of another, especially as they may be unable to handle that responsibility. Verse one sees Adu reflect on her love for this person, whom she compares to the sky: their words of affirmation lift her, yet, like the sky, they contain nothing to stop her from falling back down. They allow her to fly, even if briefly. How much do you have to love someone to see them as the entire vast sky above you? It’s hard to say.

The first chorus is where the track’s sadness peeks through, with Adu calling herself a ‘broken house’, both someone who is safe and falling apart. The image evokes a home crumbling. Adu is not the only one at fault, however. She names her partner an uneasy bough she holds onto. This transitions into verse two, arguably the thematic core of the song. The relationship between these two people has failed, and Adu wishes it could just be easy for her. She is exasperated and knows it should be over, but despite that, she is still in immense pain. The ending line, ‘That’s just like you to tell me I’ve nothing to fear’, now repeated, can be read either as further invalidation of her feelings or the partner providing one last bit of reassurance that she will be okay without them. Either way, Adu’s falling is ‘easy for her to see’.

Everything described so far is very classic love ballad, with a hefty amount of grief and yearning. What really elevates it for me is where the track’s bridge takes the idea of falling. I have to put the full lyrics here:

Full of air
Sun on my face, wind in my hair
Falling down
Flying as slow as I can
I’m not trying to reach the land
Just falling somewhere

It describes falling as almost romantic and calming, like sitting on the beach during sunset as it gets cold. She even describes herself as flying ‘as slow as [she] can’ to draw it out. Again, with simple effectiveness: the melody descends so you fall with her. ‘Be That Easy’ ends with a blink-and-you-miss-it admission of love for her mystery person, thrown into the void to then fizzle out. Whatever complicated feelings came before, there is a simple, pure love there the entire time.

Something about this piece is just so human: this type of love that pushes and pulls you yet is still worth it. There is no malice towards one another, but instead a mutual admission of struggle that makes it hard for either party to continue. That act of falling through those feelings, though, soaking in every moment for what it is, feels like wind in your hair. I’ve had to let go of my love for people, places, and things not because of any wrongdoing, but simply because there comes a time when the falling ends, and you touch the ground. In those moments of nostalgia for things I once had and fondly remember, this song finds me. To connect so naturally to such a fundamental kind of feeling marks a timeless classic.