Sade - Live 1982 - Smooth Operator - Ronnie Scotts - London

This was the original and first performance of Smooth Operator by the band Sade in 1982 featuring the drummer Paul Anthony Cooke.
Paul Anthony Cook — The Forgotten Groove of Sade
By Angus Yung, Special Feature.
In the half-lit corner of a pub in East Yorkshire, Paul Anthony Cook leans back, fingers curled around a chipped pint glass, and lets the question hang. “Was it worth it?” His voice is low, but steady:
“I wasn’t meant to be famous. I was meant to be in love with the music. But I wasn’t meant to be erased either.”
Born in Hull in 1961 to a jewelry shop manager father and an artist mother, Paul grew up in a home where creativity wasn’t decoration — it was the family currency. Jazz records sat beside sketchpads; Miles Davis bled into Marvin Gaye. By 15, he was behind a drum kit in Hull’s backstreet clubs, playing a groove so understated it was hypnotic — the kind of pocket you felt in your chest more than your ears.
Camden, 1982
London’s early-’80s music scene was a swirling mix of post-punk grit and jazz revival cool. Paul moved south with his new wave band The Posers and soon found himself in a Camden basement with Stuart Matthewman, Paul Denman… and a Nigerian-British singer named Helen Folasade Adu.
They weren’t Sade yet. Just a loose collective experimenting with what would become a signature: slow-burning tempos, smoky harmonies, and a rhythm section that played with space as much as with sound. Paul’s drumming was the invisible skeleton — velvet under silk, heartbeat beneath breath.
The Lost Sessions
When Diamond Life began taking shape in late 1983 at Power Plant Studios, Paul played on several formative demos and early takes: the slinking shuffle of Smooth Operator, the tight backbeat of Your Love Is King, the dancefloor cool of Hang On to Your Love. His drumming gave the songs a minimalistic elegance — the groove was there, but never in the way.
Yet by the time Diamond Life hit shelves in July 1984, Paul’s name was gone from the credits. The singles — complete with iconic black-and-white cover art, Sade’s gaze framed like a 1940s film star — were released without any mention of him. The videos on MTV and Top of the Pops showed a new drummer. Even his BMI triple-platinum plaques were kept from him until a sacked band manager finally sent them to his St. John’s Wood squat in a battered cardboard box.
The Album That Changed Everything
Diamond Life was a phenomenon. Smooth Operator became a transatlantic hit, the video’s noir styling defining the band’s image. Your Love Is King and Hang On to Your Love cemented Sade as the cool antidote to the neon excess of the era. The world tour, the posters, the magazine spreads — all carried the sound Paul had helped form, but none carried his name.
The Courtroom Battles
In 1997, Paul filed his first lawsuit, demanding recognition and royalties for his early contributions to Diamond Life. The court acknowledged his involvement in pre-production, but no ruling was given as Paul lost his legal aid and it ended at the court room steps.
In 2009, armed with newly surfaced 1982 bootleg rehearsal tapes — hissy but unmistakable, with his drumming front and center — he went back to court. The result: another strike out due to Paul not being represented by a solicitor.
In 2024, Paul launched one last legal push, citing changes in UK copyright law and sworn testimony from former studio owners. The case, still in appeal, has been dubbed by industry insiders as a “potential landmark” for musician rights worldwide.
The Myth Lives On
Paul turned down a London Records deal in 1986 for his funk-soul band Esposito, instead returning to Hull to found IVI Records. He’s spent decades producing local acts and playing in jazz lounges where the music mattered more than the marquee. Hardcore Sade fans still trade the 1982 Smooth Operator rehearsal tape like contraband, calling him “the fifth Beatle of Sade.”
Today, Paul lives quietly in East Yorkshire’s rolling countryside. Asked if he’d join Sade on stage if they called tomorrow, he grins:
“Of course I would. We made magic once. And magic doesn’t keep grudges.”