Adele is 22 years old, yet she seems to inhabit the past. It’s not her image nor her music in particular, but her voice which places her firmly somewhere in the late 60s, in the cigarette smoke and liquid eyelined era of the beehive. That voice breaks and wails through “Rolling In The Deep” like a war cry for the broken-hearted. During her US tour Adele used to stay up deep into the night with the bus driver who played her Nashville’s finest. They chain smoked as the South glided past the bus windows and Rascal Flatts sang about clouds dancing around the sunshine. “Rollin'” is as rootsy and gutsy as “Chasing Pavements” was tragically beautiful, and the quitar stomping beginning announces we are a long way from London now. She aptly describes it as dark bluesy gospel disco. Rarely has heartbreak sounded this powerful, or forlorn.