My professional relationship with Ed Sheeran’s UAE concerts over the past decade has been one of successful avoidance. In the period that saw him graduate from amphitheatres and arenas to mammoth stadium shows, I often engineered ways not to be there.
Dubai Media City Amphitheatre in 2015 – sorry, I had to report on a music festival abroad. In 2017 at Dubai’s Autism Rocks Arena – how could I deny my colleague’s request to cover it, especially when his young son was a fan? As for last year’s twin dates at Dubai’s Sevens Stadium, where more than 60,000 people poured in to see the Galway Girl singer perform across two nights? Well, I was busy preparing for a wedding – ditto, my colleague in the audience again.
Now, as for last night’s headlining performance at Offlimits, Sheeran’s debut concert in Abu Dhabi, I finally took the plunge – realising the Sheeran phenomenon wasn’t fading any time soon.
That said, I found my way to Etihad Park more curious than anything else. I wanted to understand how he continues to command stadiums worldwide as a literal solo act – no backing band, just a guitar and a loop pedal. How does he pull it off?
I found the answer during Sheeran’s rather moving take on The A Team, the breakthrough hit turning 15 years old in June. It wasn’t so much in the loving performance or the heart-wrenching lyrics – inspired by Sheeran’s visits to UK homeless centres – but rather in the way he prefaced the song, recalling the hopes he had pinned on what he believed would be a career-changing moment.
"I still remember playing this song at open mic nights across the United Kingdom and hoping it would catch people's attention – but it didn’t," he said. "But I kept playing it four times a week until it started to build a little following. Then I signed a label deal with it, it became a hit in the UK, and I got to tour the world with it, travelling to places like here."
More than a rags-to-riches story, the anecdote best explains Sheeran’s approach to his craft. Behind the songwriting nous and refreshingly casual attitude to fame lies a seemingly relentless drive to keep people’s attention.
Perhaps this also explains the whole one-man-band setup of his shows. It’s the ultimate high-wire act, allowing stadiums to echo those tough evenings when Sheeran played to uninterested crowds – a reminder to him, and to us, that even the most dour career moments can change.
And across two hours, Sheeran did his thing – delivering an unassuming yet beguiling, career-spanning set that was as earnest as it was virtuosic. You can't help but be impressed by how quickly he builds each song on stage – like a chef whipping up a dish in a lightning-round television contest – layering acoustic guitar riffs, hand-made beats and backing vocals into fully-formed tracks in less than a minute.
The move also allows us to see what's under the hood of Sheeran's immaculately produced hits, particularly in the more electronically laced tracks such as Shivers and the R&B-driven Don't, where these dancey productions perhaps began with some simple and rhythmic guitar strumming at home or in the studio before the studio wizardry was added.
As for the folk-driven sounds – as heard in the tender Lego House and the stark Boat – Sheeran had the crowd swaying along, before occasional sing-along bursts with Thinking Out Loud, the new single Azizam and a rapturous one-two closer of Shape of You and Bad Habits.
More impressive, perhaps, is that Sheeran pulled off a minimal show in front of a crowd, withstanding a humid evening and a festival stage that differed greatly from the eye-popping 360-degree set-up he employed during his previous Dubai visit. That said, the Offlimits festival made the affair as dynamic as possible, with sky-scraping LED screens both at the centre and flanking the main stage, displaying a variety of visuals and live footage of Sheeran.
It did just enough to keep me attuned to the full set, although at times I found myself wishing for a backing band to add more dynamism to the performance. But this is Sheeran’s shtick – I may not love all of it, but I couldn't leave the gig without respect for one of this generation’s singular musical talents.
