Somewhere between the syrupy sentimentality of Perfect and the wistful nostalgia of Photograph, my voice had staged a full-scale mutiny. What had started to emerge from my throat could only be described as the tragic wheeze of a deflating bagpipe, or perhaps a particularly anguished accordion. This, as it turned out, was exactly what Ed Sheeran wanted.
“You guys are too focused on singing in tune,” he told the 25,000-strong crowd at the Leisure Valley Ground in Gurugram, the final stop of his six-city India tour. “That’s my job. I need you to scream-sing.” And so we did, our vocal cords be damned.
The crowd awaits Ed Sheeran at his Delhi concert for the final leg of his Mathematics Tour in India
| Photo Credit:
Sparsh Asthana
The 33-year-old Englishman was now a veteran of Indian audiences and had chosen to expand his touring geography with a six-city tour in the country. “The first time I came to India was in 2015; we played in Mumbai,” he said. “Then the next time, Mumbai. And the next time, Mumbai. Finally, I said, ‘Why don’t we play somewhere else?’ And here we are.” The day before, he had roamed the streets of Old Delhi before making his way across town to serenade fans in the National Capital for the very first time.
Indie-pop sensation Lisa Mishra joined the ranks of Sheeran’s previous openers — Kayan, Mali (aka Maalvika Manoj), Dot, and Armaan Malik — as Sheeran’s Delhi warm-up act. She stepped onto the stage with a quiet confidence that made you suspect she was about to take complete control of the room. She did. A medley of her own tracks, a smooth cover of Arijit Singh’s Kabira, and her Call Me Bae anthem Yaara Tere Bin later, the audience was sufficiently primed for the main course.
Sheeran’s entrance was, in keeping with his brand, delightfully unpretentious. No grand pyrotechnics, no elaborate stage choreography, no dramatic countdown — just a scruffy-looking redhead in a black T-shirt emblazoned with ‘DELHI’ across the chest, an acoustic guitar slung over his shoulder, and a loop pedal, which he patiently explained to the audience, allowed him to layer beats and instrumentals in real-time. If you weren’t paying attention to the opening chords of Castle on the Hill, you might have thought he had a full band hidden somewhere backstage.
Ed Sheeran performs at his Delhi concert for the final leg of his Mathematics Tour in India
| Photo Credit:
Sparsh Asthana
For a first-timer at a Sheeran concert, the whole thing feels part science, part sorcery. A tap on the body of his guitar morphs into a heartbeat, a few strums build into a melody, and before anyone fully grasps what’s happening, the song is airborne. Unlike his chart-topping peers, who arrive with a battalion of backup dancers and sometimes even pre-recorded tracks, Sheeran operates with a kind of audacious minimalism. He builds, layers, loops, and experiments — each track morphing into something unique to that night, that city, that moment.
But Sheeran is nothing if not a showman. At times, it feels like watching a magician who still delights in his own tricks, grinning as he pushes his sound to new, unexpected places. There’s something quite charming about the boyish amusement with which he effortlessly turns a massive crowd into an intimate campfire sing-along, pulling thousands into the palm of his hand as makeshift choirs with a simple strum, a foot tap, or an impromptu quip about the audience’s enthusiasm — or lack thereof. “Are your voices feeling warmed up?” he asked before launching into Thinking Out Loud. “If you don’t know the words to this next song, you’re at the wrong gig.”
Ed Sheeran performs at his Delhi concert for the final leg of his Mathematics Tour in India
| Photo Credit:
Sparsh Asthana
For two hours, Sheeran was every bit the affable troubadour. He flitted between delicate ballads (Tenerife Sea, Perfect) and rapid-fire raps (You Need Me I Don’t Need You), switching from tender confessions to full-throttle bravado with disarming ease. He reminisced about his early days, playing The A Team in dingy London pubs to an audience that barely looked up from their drinks. “When I wrote this song, I really thought it would change everything for me. And I went in the next day and no one cared. I played it again the next day and no one cared. And the next day, no one cared. After about six months, people started caring.”
Midway through, he even tossed in a cover of Love Yourself — the song he had famously written for a certain “Canadian friend” — as well as a mashup of Take It Back with Stevie Wonder’s Superstition and Bill Withers’ Ain’t No Sunshine. At one point, Sheeran pulled us all out of the moment when he paused mid-Happier after spotting someone fainting in the crowd and ensured the person received help before resuming. It was a small thing, but it reinforced what was already evident: he was present, engaged, and genuinely enjoying himself.
Ed Sheeran performs at his Delhi concert for the final leg of his Mathematics Tour in India
| Photo Credit:
Sparsh Asthana
Then came the moment of transcendence: Bloodstream. If there was one song that demonstrated Sheeran’s ability to turn a live performance into a near-religious experience, this was it. The stage lights shifted to crimson, the atmosphere thickened, and Sheeran layered his own voice into a haunting chorus, singing about a chemical (MDMA-induced) fog of heartbreak and regret. It was hypnotic, almost primal. I closed my eyes and momentarily lost time, feeling the crowd around me blurring into one, swaying under the same shared spell.
As the evening drew to its inevitable conclusion, it seemed Sheeran had one last trick tucked up his sleeve — quite literally. A false coda, a calculated farewell, and for a fleeting moment, it seemed he might actually deny the ravenous crowd the earworm synonymous with his name they had come to sing along to. But the mob was relentless, chanting Shape of You like a fevered prayer, demanding its pound of pop-fueled flesh. And then, as if he’d just remembered why he was here in the first place, Sheeran bounded back onto the stage, now clad in the Indian cricket team’s jersey, number 17, “Sheeran” emblazoned on the back. He grinned, soaking in the deafening roars of approval like a man who had long since mastered the art of giving the people precisely what they wanted, precisely when they wanted it.
Ed Sheeran performs at his Delhi concert for the final leg of his Mathematics Tour in India
| Photo Credit:
Sparsh Asthana
By the time Shape of You arrived, the crowd had given up all pretence of restraint. It’s easy to be cynical about a song that has lived on every speaker, in every bar, in every country, since 2017. But something magical happens when 25,000 people scream-sing “The club isn’t the best place to find a lover” in unison. Cynicism evaporates. Arms fly up. Strangers exchange giddy, knowing looks.
Sheeran’s magic has always been the way he makes a packed arena of rabid fans feel like a self-styled Tiny Desk Concert. It’s a curious thing, really — how one affable British bloke can summon the ghost of his flamboyant, moustachioed predecessor to weld a crowd of into a singular, swaying organism. And in that, perhaps, is the real equation behind his Mathematics Tour:
One man + one guitar + six unforgettable nights = the sum of an entire country, singing along.
Ed Sheeran’s Mathematics Tour in India was brought to life by AEG Presents Asia and BookMyShow Live, the live entertainment division of BookMyShow.
Published – February 16, 2025 03:59 pm IST
music
/
pop music
/
Music Personalities
/
Concert
