Richard Hogan: Fellow music snobs, I saw Ed Sheeran in concert and I liked it

Ed Sheeran on stage during the last of his three Cork concerts at Páirc Uí Chaoimh. Picture Dan Linehan

There is something special about a singer-songwriter. Standing solitary on a stage, strumming our pain with their fingers, singing our lived experience with their words, as the song goes. It is a lonely artistic endeavour, like the blacksmith who expends himself in shape and music to hammer something imagined into life.

Music is a door into the light. And we have been in the dark for too many years now. So, the Ed Sheeran concert in Croke Park last Saturday was like an antidote to the chaos and pain we have all experienced, recently. 

We have always held singer-songwriters with such reverence in this country. We celebrate one person and their guitar dragging into life how they view the world through melody and chorus. We’ve produced some of the world’s best-loved singer-songwriters, Damian Rice, Van Morrison, Sinéad O’Connor, Glen Hansard, and Gilbert O’ Sullivan to mention a few. 

The craft of bringing a song from the well-spring of the imagination has always brought us joy, as an audience. But there was something different about this concert. Aesthetically, it didn’t look like any one-man show I had ever been to.

I have to admit: I really didn’t get Ed Sheeran. My daughter Hannah loves him and was always trying to get me to listen to his music. I kind of reduced him down to being slightly derivative and saccharine, which is what we often do when we don’t get something.

Songs like Perfect and Galway Girl confirmed my bias for me: he just changed the word “wonderful” with “perfect” and had himself a hit - 'darling you look perfect tonight'. 

Clapton, as far as I could see, said the same thing in an original way couple of decades earlier. So, that’s where he stood in the judgemental corner of my mind for the last 11 years. Cloyingly sweet, derivative, and a little maudlin. But songs like Thinking Out Loud and Love Yourself made me take notice. 

We all have little guilty pleasures, even us music snobs, and Thinking Out Loud was mine. Like Westlife’s World Of Our Own, I refused to admit I liked it to anyone, but I loved it and was on a playlist for running. 

I could be heard down Yellow Walls Road in Malahide giving "took for granted everything we had as if I’d find someone who’s just like you" a good belt. Brings me zero pleasure to admit I love that song! 

Fans enjoying the Ed Sheeran concert at Croke Park Stadium Dublin this evening as he kicks off his much-anticipated Mathematics tour across the country. Pic Conor Ó Mearáin / Collins Photos

The Irish boys dressed in gangster clothes, like they’ve blindly walked into the set of a Scorsese movie, classic Louis Walsh. My delta blues-loving soul wouldn’t allow me to admit I found some of Ed’s songs interesting too, I knew he was a great player and singer. But I wrote him off.

There was excitement in the Hogan house Saturday morning. Ed’s songs were pouring out of the metallic Alexa speakers. Perhaps two years of lockdown had caused, what my mother used to call “taspy” (Cork slang for being overly excited because you’ve done nothing for a while). 

That was me, full of taspy. Myself, my wife and two eldest daughters went. And I have to say I was converted on the rotating mathematical alter of Ed Sheeran. The set itself was phenomenal. I’m no slouch to stages, I’ve been through Zooropa in the 90s, and David Bowie, so I’ve experienced some interesting stages. 

But Ed Sheeran’s circular rotating Oreo-looking stage, flanked by what appeared as gigantic insect leg speakers and Gulliver’s Travels-type electronic plectrums were visually very impressive. As we waited for the concert, I questioned whether or not he would be able to hold the 80,000 strong audience’s attention, I mean, that is no easy feat. I also was playing the “pneumonia game”, many of the audience, it seemed, hadn’t been to Croker before and more than likely didn’t know it would be freezing by 9pm. 

Ah, the folly of youth, you look out and see a sunny day, you never think about your future self, standing there in little clothes, freezing. All the fake tan in the world, won’t keep you warm. My own daughter was laughing at me as I dressed for the concert, “What’s the scarf for?” “Oh, you’ll see.” I was wrapped up well, the only real benefit of being middle-aged, you pre-empt things like that. I was surrounded by a chorus of chattering teeth. But they didn’t care, the energy and heat from Ed Sheeran’s words and performance was enough.

I’m a huge Bob Dylan fan, but I find his concerts difficult to experience because he doesn’t even acknowledge he is playing in front of a crowd. No interaction with the audience. Just say hi, Bob. I’d take that. But the moment the countdown started, I felt this would be something different. As the stage dropped and Ed came into view, the crowd erupted. 

The 80,000-strong choir sang the first lines and never stopped until the end. What struck me, as a doubter, was the way he has taken so many genres and blended them to make something unique and accessible for everyone. His engagement with the audience was wonderful to witness, it was clear he has having a good time too. As we all embraced under the light of 80,000 phones I felt something fundamental about the human condition. It’s utter refusal to give in. It’s sheer resilience.

Look out Cork, Ed’s on his way!