‘Shivers’-the second song on Ed Sheeran’s newest mathematical-operation-based series of albums, “=”, comes off as a little incongruous in tone, when you listen to it in context of the album order, as he pleads with you to in the release interview he did with Apple Music. It comes off as incongruous because it is, essentially, a horny and infatuated pop radio hit, sandwiched between two heartfelt songs that would have been at home on ‘x’. It’s followed by the beautiful ‘First Times’ that I can imagine is an ode to his wife (“Greatest thing I have achieved is four little words, down on one knee”) and how his commitment to her makes his wealth and fame pale in comparison. “Shivers” is preceded by a reflection on his fortunes as told to his daughter, in the lively and excited way a parent would share something with a child they so loved in ‘Tides’. So yes, in those first three tracks, he goes from fatherhood, to not keeping it in his pants, to the best thing in life being his marriage. It’s like if Clapton put Layla, Cocaine and Wonderful tonight after one another. Instant classics in their own right, but one these doesn’t belong. Shivers is an ed Sheeran hit, to be sure, with the staccato acoustic guitar countermelodies and big choruses, but, yeah, not the place or time, Teddy. His rockstar, playboy lifestyle come back in the almost formulaic chart topper in “Bad Habits” that would’ve been much more at home on a Dua Lipa record, or maybe even an Ed-Dua collaboration on ‘Number 6 Collaborations Project’. Now, maybe I’m asking for a single-minded album, which is clearly not the goal here. The undulating and inconsistent tone are quite characteristic of any newly 30-year-old, heading out of freewheeling and wild 20s lifestyle, especially one that a multi-platinum music career affords. He’s grappling with maturity in a very Sheeran way. He might be grown and married, but he can breed a earworm like no other, still. ‘Overpass Graffiti’ is a lovely, if slightly Americanised, metaphor for the unfading love he has for his recently passed friend, Michael. This has arrangements and head-bopping riffs that characterise memories of blurry 20something nights, clearly a sentiment he and his late friend shared. He promises his departed friend a love that will outlive them both. A piano-backed opener to ‘The Joker and the Queen’ signal a lighter-swaying ballad that’ll have all of us moist-eyed at the next Sheeran concert. It’s romantic and timeless, the orchestral interlude providing a lovely backing to any first dance at a wedding. It’s quite boyish, too, with all his disbelief that a queen like her chose his joker self over the thousand kings she could have chosen in his stead. It’s sweet and earnest in a way that has enchanted anyone who has listened to the likes of ‘Cold Coffee’ and ‘Supermarket Flowers’. He keeps it mellow for one more love song, this one, ‘Leave Your Life’, clearly to keep his daughter warm while he’s on the road (“I’m never gonna leave your life Even at the times I’m miles away You are always on my mind”). He shines in the simplicity of these love songs, which are a beautiful tonal contrast to the young romantic simplicity that his first album granted us. ‘2step’ is a lovely flashback to the melodic double time quasi rap that we all got so familiar emanating from young Edward. It’s nostalgic and current all at once. This is a man who love shaving a good time, more so, with the one he loves and he can’t stop telling you about it. ‘Stop the Rain’, is reflective of the deluge of lawsuits and criticism that someone of his stature in the music industry has had to live with. It’s very clearly a reminder of his strength, to help him get through it, and results in anthem to pushing through hard times, something we all need to hear nowadays. There’s only so long you can keep him from talking about the quiet life in the country, and being married in it. In ‘Love In Slow Motion’ he loves savouring the silence and the quiet moments with his wife, warming more and more to a more demure 30s and to married life, all in one. His catharsis for mourning his pal, Michael, lasts one more beautiful lament in ‘Visiting Hours’. He wishes heaven had visiting hours, a necessity in world shrouded by death for the last couple years. We need to catch up, grieve them at their bedside. Rest in peace, Michael. I never knew you, but Ed has made me know you and miss you more than people I actually know. His daughter is one lucky girl, as we find in the lullaby ‘sandman’, which should have every parent breaking out the old ukulele and singing it to their little one. As someone who wishes to be a parent one day, this hit home. All in all, my pessimism for the ‘new’, post ‘No. 6 Collaborations Project’ Ed Sheeran seems to have been deflated. His return to the pop-singer-songwriter sound is charming, varied and very much his own all the way through. Romance is his story and his guitar his pen. He has matured like the finest cheeses and wines. I can only thank him for all the tenderness and emotion packed into this record.
