Adam Lambert - High Drama (LP)

Adam Lambert has been reimagining other people’s songs since the “Mad World” days on Idol and, later, while fronting Queen on arena stages. High Drama, released on February 24, 2023 by BMG, bottles that skill and tilts it into a full covers album, the kind you put on to hear a singer push into a song’s corners rather than just trace its outlines. It is a fun premise, sure, but what makes it more than a novelty is how carefully these versions are shaped. Lambert chooses material that spans decades and moods, then treats each track like a short play, with sets that shift and lights that flare just when the story needs them.

The clearest example is his take on Duran Duran’s “Ordinary World.” He first unveiled that one on the 2022 finale of The Voice, dedicating it to the victims of the Club Q shooting in Colorado Springs. On the album it lands with the same steadiness, his voice turning the song from elegant melancholy into a kind of quiet vigil. The instrumentation stays roomy and restrained, which lets his phrasing carry the weight. It is a sensitive read that avoids melodrama, and that balance feels earned.

“Chandelier” is the opposite approach. Sia’s original swings from a whisper to a cry, and Lambert leans into the cry. He throws his upper register into the chorus like a trapeze artist who knows the net will hold. It is not subtle, and it should not be. The pleasure is hearing those sky-high notes polished but still daring, then watching him pull back for the bridge to reset the tension. If you collect Adam Lambert vinyl, this is one of those tracks that jumps out of the grooves, all shimmer and adrenaline.

He finds a different gear on Billie Eilish’s “Getting Older.” The lyric reads like a journal entry, and he treats it that way, singing with a soft edge that brings out the rue rather than the spectacle. The arrangement creeps in with synths and slowly thickens. You can hear him age the words, rounding them with experience, which is the sort of interpretive touch that separates a real covers set from a karaoke exercise.

His flair for camp shows up with a grin on “Holding Out for a Hero,” the Jim Steinman slice of 80s bombast Bonnie Tyler made immortal. Lambert turns the volume knob clockwise and revels in the theatricality, but he keeps the band tight so it never collapses into cheese. It is a wink and a sprint at the same time, and it works because he understands the tradition he is playing in. If you ever needed a reminder that he was made for a glam-rock spotlight, here it is, neon bright.

The album’s deeper charm lies in the way he re-casts 80s and 70s staples as noir pop. “Do You Really Want to Hurt Me” drops the sunshine, takes on a darker pulse, and suddenly Culture Club’s plea sounds like it was written for a stormy city night. “I Can’t Stand the Rain,” the Ann Peebles classic, gets a similar treatment, trading Memphis sway for a sleeker, percussive snap. Neither version tries to outdo the originals on their home turf, which is smart. He side-steps and draws new lines around the melodies.

Across High Drama you can hear the road miles he has logged with Queen + Adam Lambert. Years of singing “Who Wants to Live Forever” and “The Show Must Go On” in front of enormous crowds clearly sharpened his instincts about dynamics and space. He knows when to let a note hang, when to stack harmonies, when to let the drums punch a hole in the arrangement. It is showmanship aimed at the song, not just the spotlight.

If you are hunting for High Drama vinyl, do it. These arrangements bloom on a turntable, and the sequencing makes sense for a side A and side B sit-down. While you are at it, this is an easy gateway into other Adam Lambert albums on vinyl, and a reminder of how good his voice sounds in an analog room. I can picture finding it in a Melbourne record store bin between Duran Duran and Culture Club, and it would belong there. Or just buy Adam Lambert records online and save yourself the digging.

Covers albums live or die by taste and conviction. Lambert brings both. He respects the bones of these songs, but he is unafraid to bend them until they fit his frame. The result is a set that feels curated and lived-in, glossy in spots, bruised in others, and always sung like it matters. High Drama is aptly named and, on vinyl or streaming, it delivers the kind of theatrical pop moment that fans keep on the shelf and reach for often.