Читать книгу Ed Sheeran - Sean Smith - Страница 7

He’s on time. There’s no messing about with Ed. He doesn’t need to build up the excitement artificially by being late onstage. Instead, at 8.45 p.m. precisely, the lights go down and the video screens show him making his way casually down a corridor towards the stage as if he’s strolling to the pub for a pint. The only giveaway that this is an extraordinary event is the deafening roar from 60,000 people.

And there’s the man himself. The pedals of his famous loop station are at his feet and a small guitar bearing the logo of his latest album ÷ (Divide) is in his hands. He cuts a solitary figure. If you didn’t know he was the biggest pop star in the world in 2018, you’d be forgiven for thinking this was the warm-up act who couldn’t afford a proper band.

Standing a couple of rows in front of me, a young girl has the symbol ÷ etched in glitter on her cheek. I’m surrounded by people wearing official T-shirts with the logo on the front and the cities he’s playing on the back. This will please Ed, who has always been switched on regarding the promotional and financial importance of official merchandise. As a schoolboy, he would try to flog a few of his self-financed CDs to his audience, even if it was just half a dozen people in a social club.

The first chords of ‘Castle on the Hill’ are all anybody needs to get up and dance. Ed Sheeran is only one man but he seems to create an enormous power and charisma. There’s nobody else quite like him. Not everyone was brought up in a small town with a view of a magnificent castle, but we can all identify with thoughts and feelings about home. There’s something reassuring about making your way back, perhaps at Christmas or just to see Mum and Dad or old friends who haven’t moved on.

While he’s getting his breath back, Ed announces, ‘Good evening, Cardiff! Howya doing?’, which is not especially original but meets with a very positive response. Ed’s very relaxed between songs. The night before, he had left the stage twice to go for a pee.

He didn’t need to do that tonight. Instead, he tells us this is the biggest tour that has ever come to Wales. More than 240,000 people have swarmed into the stadium to see him during the last four nights. Apparently, Friday night was the largest single audience, although, to loud cheers, Ed suggests that tonight’s crowd is even bigger.

It’s the last night of the UK leg of his 2018 world tour. I wonder idly if I’m the millionth person to see him since he played the Etihad Stadium in Manchester last month. It’s not just a million teenage girls either. This is truly a family event with mums and dads, nans, grandads and children under ten all eager to enjoy themselves.

I’m next to a young couple from Barry Island who have brought their seven-year-old son Theo with them. ‘Who’s the fan?’ I ask. They chorus that they all are, although Dad told me he usually preferred Iron Maiden and Def Leppard.

He would have enjoyed the start of ‘Eraser’, the opening track on the ÷ album that begins with a wall of sound, courtesy of the loop station. It’s the first number of the night to feature some trademark rapping. In Ed’s hands, rapping seems to be more poetic than aggressive. He has made the genre acceptable to millions who might not have appreciated it before.

He launches into ‘The A Team’, the song he wrote ten years ago that changed everything for him. ‘If you know the words, then sing along,’ he says. It seems as if 60,000 people do. ‘There’s no such thing as “Can’t sing”,’ he tells us, ‘only “Can’t sing in tune”.’ That is certainly the case of practically everyone near me, but nobody cares.

Cleverly, he merges ‘Don’t’ from his second album, × (Multiply), with ‘New Man’ from ÷, both harsh and slightly bitter break-up songs. Between numbers, Ed may not have the distinctive patter of Adele but he chats in a relaxed fashion that appears perfectly natural and friendly, not at all scripted.

Apparently, he last played in Cardiff in 2011 and vowed then that he wouldn’t come back until he could fill this great stadium. That ambition didn’t take long to achieve.

He asks for our biggest scream before changing pace to ‘Dive’ perhaps the most underrated song on ÷. It’s a romantic ballad but not a soppy one. ‘Don’t call me baby/unless you mean it’ is a chorus to sing at the top of your voice in the shower.

As each song passes, I’m more and more struck by how everyone knows the words. I suppose it’s an indication of the sheer scale of his popularity. Ed’s strategy is that it’s a participation show and he wants everyone to sing and dance, although he reminds us that he can’t dance – even if the famous video to ‘Thinking Out Loud’ gives the impression that he’s a natural.

Ed wants us all to dance whether we can or not. Amusingly, he points out that there is always two per cent of an audience that refuses to sing or dance. They’re either the grumpy reluctant boyfriend or the ‘superdad’ who’s being a hero acting as chaperone for their son or daughter. Ed’s own dad, John Sheeran, was exactly that, taking his boy along to countless gigs that gave him a vitally important musical education when he was young enough to absorb any influences.

Ed moves easily between different styles, often in the same song. They might build from a rap or a quiet verse into one of those anthemic choruses you can’t get out of your head. He sings three songs in a row that reflect the agony of love. ‘Bloodstream’, from the × album, starts quietly before transforming into one of his most dramatic crescendos and a powerful wall of sound.

‘Happier’ is, for me, his most melancholy song, a story of love lost, a recurring theme with Ed. The poignant lyric touches anyone who has ever taken a wrong turn in love – and that would be everyone. ‘I’m a Mess’ is another song that reflects Ed’s own intelligence and openness in his lyrics. I wish I had a fiver for every time someone’s told me that they like the autobiographical touches he includes in his songs.

It’s time to lighten the mood a little and ‘Galway Girl’ does exactly that. Some critics don’t like this song and I’ve heard it described as Marmite – you either love it or you hate it – but we’re all up, having a hooley in the aisles. Ed has always embraced his Irish heritage and my guess is that this will become a party classic in the years ahead.

Ed doesn’t do many covers so it’s a surprise when he slips ‘Feeling Good’ into the set list. Although many people know it as a Michael Bublé song from a decade ago, it’s actually a much older stage-musical number that became an instant classic when it was recorded by the matchless Nina Simone in 1965. The late George Michael also featured it on his last studio album, Symphonica, in 2014. I wonder if there are any similarities between Ed and George – arguably the two greatest solo male pop stars the UK has produced. Ed cleverly mashes his version into the haunting ‘I See Fire’, the song he wrote for the 2013 film, The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug.

Ed changes guitars for practically every number. He is handed an electric guitar for the first time and mentions Amy Wadge, one of his original collaborators, who still lives locally in South Wales and is in the audience tonight. ‘If you don’t know the words to this one then you’re probably at the wrong show,’ he announces, then plays the opening chords of the sublime ‘Thinking Out Loud’, which he wrote with Amy.

Everyone goes into a huge romantic sigh. Instead of the thousand stars in the lyric, I can see a thousand and more torch lights from mobile phones shimmering in the darkened stands. Considering that he has only released three mainstream albums, Ed has already produced many classics – songs that will be first dances at weddings, reminders of first dates and kisses or just simply ‘our songs’.

This is the beginning of four peerless ballads. He follows ‘Thinking Out Loud’ with ‘One’ and ‘Photograph’, also from the × album. During the latter, the big screens behind him flash up images of Ed as a child. Could it get any more poignant? And then he plays ‘Perfect’.

Ed explains one of his secrets. This song is ‘super-personal to me’, he reveals. We know it’s written for Cherry but it doesn’t have the same emotion for everyone: ‘It’s my song before it comes out, but when it comes out, it becomes your song.’ This is a universal truth about music.

As if to prove that point, the grey-haired couple behind me put their arms around each other. The young mum next to me picks up her son and cuddles him, while a few rows down I can see a small boy standing between his mum and dad and they all have their arms around each other. It’s an ‘I was there’ moment that they will always remember. Perfect, indeed.

‘Nancy Mulligan’, the song he wrote about his Irish grandparents, wakes everyone from their romantic reverie and we all start dancing again – all except one superdad I spotted, who was determined to stay seated while his young daughter bopped away enthusiastically next to him. Even he got up for ‘Sing’, the closing number.

Ed pops offstage briefly to change his shirt. He’s back wearing a number-eleven jersey with Gareth Bale on the back, which gets a cheer. The reception for the first number of the encore, his biggest hit to date – ‘Shape of You’ – is the loudest of the night. He finishes with a frantic wall-of-noise version of ‘You Need Me, I Don’t Need You’, which is the song he traditionally performs as his last of the night.

Part of me thinks he should have ended with ‘Thinking Out Loud’ or ‘Perfect’, but that’s clearly not what he’s decided to do. He wants to leave with a dramatic climax, and that he achieves. This is the song that sums up his philosophy: be true to your own dreams and follow them. He wishes us a safe journey home and is gone – no fuss, no unnecessary milking of the applause, no insincere ‘I love you, Cardiff’ nonsense. He came, he played, he conquered.

On my way out with 60,000 other people, I thought about the end of the video for ‘Photograph’, perhaps my favourite. There’s a shot of Ed at the top of a hill and a voice asks, ‘Are you at the top of the mountain?’ His phenomenal success – in terms of record sales, downloads, streaming, audience figures – doesn’t lie. He is unarguably at the top of the mountain, looking down on the rest of the music business. My job, I thought, is to discover how on earth a scruffy, ginger-haired bloke climbed up there.