Adele

If she continues to keep at it, who knows how long Amy Winehouse will live to keep us entertained in the tabloids, but you’ve got to believe her wee body can’t take much more abuse. When we’re ready to give up on her, England has prepped another singer with a sultry, smoky voice for our approval who seems destined to lead a much healthier lifestyle. Meet Adele, a Brixton-based 19-year-old who will be the next great English singer-songwriter, sell millions of records and by signing to a shit-hot label like XL, more than likely earn plaudits from both the accepting mainstream and the impossible-to-please subterranean. And no, there is no last name. Her forthcoming debut album she says is "about being between 18 and 19; about love,” and includes the song "Daydreamer,” which is based on a true story about her heartbreaking romance with a bisexual male, an experience that can write an album’s worth of material itself, I imagine. First single, "Hometown Glory,” is the sort of melancholy tearjerker we’ll be "feeling” come Grey’s Anatomy’s devastating finale (if television does survive the strike, that is). The gripping piano chords build mountain-high drama, and the ambiguous lyrics open to any interpretation will appeal to anyone looking to indulge in either self-confidence or self-pity – they’re that flexible. While I can’t condone the scatting towards the end and wish she’d try something different than the *yawn* piano (like Laura Barrett and her nifty kalimbas), it’s impossible to deny Miss Adele’s gift is a voice that can affect even the toughest cynic. Now let’s just hope she can stay away from the needles, both tattoo and the other kinds.