The Poetic Flight of an Adoring Heart
David Essex’s “High, Flying Adored” is a soaring ballad that captures the bittersweet essence of a fleeting and intense love, a love so powerful it lifts you to the heavens before gently letting you down. Released in 1978, the song was a notable track from the soundtrack album of the film “Starman”, a modern musical interpretation of the Orpheus and Eurydice myth starring Essex himself. While the album found a dedicated audience, this particular song, with its elegant and melancholic melody, didn’t achieve the massive chart success of some of Essex’s earlier hits. It peaked at a more modest #60 on the UK Singles Chart, a position that belied its enduring emotional power and its quiet place in the hearts of many listeners.
In an era of disco’s shimmering pulse and punk’s raw energy, “High, Flying Adored” was a quiet, almost anachronistic, reflection. It was a song for those moments of private contemplation, when the world outside melts away and all that matters is the echo of a profound connection. The story behind the song is deeply intertwined with the narrative of the film it was written for, a tale of a rock star who, in his pursuit of fame, finds a love that transcends the earthly realm. The song serves as the emotional core of this story, a soliloquy from a man who has experienced the ultimate high of love, a feeling of being elevated and adored, only to face the inevitable descent. It’s a sentiment many of us, as we’ve walked through life’s corridors, can recognize—the exhilaration of a new love, the feeling that you could conquer the world, followed by the soft, sometimes painful, landing when reality intrudes.
Listening to “High, Flying Adored” today is like opening a well-preserved photograph album. Each note, each hushed lyric, evokes a specific kind of nostalgia—the kind that’s less about a longing for a specific time and more about a yearning for a feeling. It takes you back to a moment when a particular person made you feel seen, valued, and, yes, adored. The song’s arrangement is sparse and deliberate. It allows Essex’s voice, with its unique blend of vulnerability and romanticism, to take center stage. The gentle piano, the subtle strings, and the understated percussion don’t overwhelm the emotion; they serve it, creating an atmosphere of quiet intimacy. There’s a certain wisdom in the lyrics, a recognition that while the euphoria of love may not last forever, the memory of that feeling—that sensation of being “high, flying adored”—is a treasure that can never be taken away.
This song is a testament to the fact that a track doesn’t need to top the charts to become a classic. Its value lies not in its commercial success but in its ability to connect with listeners on a deeply personal level. For those who came of age in the 1970s, “High, Flying Adored” is more than just a song; it’s a marker of a specific time in their emotional lives. It’s a reminder of first loves, of heartbreaks that felt like the end of the world but were in fact just the beginning of wisdom. It’s a soundtrack to the moments we all live through, the ones that are too personal for public display but too significant to ever forget. The legacy of “High, Flying Adored” isn’t about numbers on a chart; it’s about the quiet, persistent hum of a beautiful memory, a gentle and timeless reminder that to love and be loved, even for a moment, is to truly fly.