More about: George Ezra

Somebody on Twitter once labelled George Ezra as “the Michael Buble of summer”, and I am honestly still shook at how accurate that is. The clocks have gone forward, the nights are brighter, and as the brutal winter cold gives way to warmer weathers, Ezra is here at the O2 Arena to defrost all of our hearts.

Much like Buble, his music is the easiest of easy listening, chemically designed to make you feel a little bit happier. It’s a night that has been a while in the making, with the show being postponed due to illness. And as I enter the O2, I notice something about the crowd: it is all families. A lot of children with parents and grandparents alike are here for what could possibly be their first ever gig; it showcases the broad appeal of Ezra’s music, but it also foreshadows the timidity of the show about to take place. 

First up though, we are treated to a support slot from Passenger. Not *THE* Passenger of the Iggy Pop song, but Passenger the singer/songwriter, aka Michael David Rosenberg, who inflicted a reign of terror on the charts in 2014 with his schmaltzy ballad ‘Let Her Go’ (originally released in 2012, but became the very definition of a sleeper hit one year later). Admittedly, I went into this incredibly unfamiliar with his back catalogue, and was expecting the same level of twee sub-Mumford gloss as his hit suggests, but he stepped onto the stage unaccompanied by a band and treated us to some genuinely unique songwriting. As well as this, he is genuinely very funny. “I’m aware I only have one famous song” he says towards the start of the set, “so what I’m going to do tonight is play ‘Let Her Go’ seven times, if that’s alright with you”. Nobody is more aware of his one-hit-wonder status than the man himself, so he tackles it with grace and good humour, and something else to note is how genuinely elated he looks to be standing on this stage.

He notes how he was a busker for ten years before breaking through, so to even be here is a miracle for him, and his gratitude to the audience feels so warm and personal. We get some warm Lighters Out moments, a very theatrical cover of ‘Sound of Silence’, some surprisingly political lyrics aimed against the powers that be, and when ‘Let Her Go’ eventually gets played, it is shockingly quite moving. Stripped of all its radio sheen, the song shines on its own two feet, creating a tender and intimate atmosphere in this huge arena. I wasn’t expecting much of Passenger, but tonight he went above and beyond my estimations, setting the bar almost a little too high for the rest of the evening. 

"so infectiously happy that a virus of joy begins spreading across the crowd, the particles of optimism becoming airborne..."

As the M&S mums and hyperactive children return to their seats, the pre-gig playlist rings out across the arena. It’s a set of tunes that feels very catered for this audience; ‘All Star’, ‘Africa’, ‘September’, the types of tunes that your auntie would put on her barbecue playlist. And it all culminates in that exciting blackout before the band take the stage, and ‘It’s Not Unusual’ plays over the speakers (the final boss of Auntie BBQ bangers). Ezra and his band emerge, smiles aplenty, and get right into ‘Anyone For You (Tiger Lily)’, an infectiously happy number. Next up is ‘Cassy O’, another infectiously happy number. ‘Get Away’, so infectiously happy that a virus of joy begins spreading across the crowd, the particles of optimism becoming airborne. As much as he is a talented songwriter, Ezra really only has one mood- Big Happy Summer Bangers- and it’s a mood he ferociously commits to throughout the proceedings. Of course, this mood does divert into Laid Back Summer Laments, with the hazy ‘Barcelona’ and ‘Saviour’ changing the atmosphere a bit. But I still can’t shake the feeling that I’m essentially watching a band on autopilot, churning through the motions. Every moment feels so mechanical, every breakdown, solo and spotlight moment for the band members (a very talented bunch) feels lacking in any spark. All crafts, no art. 

Ezra himself doesn’t really have much to say beyond thanking the audience for sticking by him with the show’s postponement, as well as the obligatory “sing along! Dance along!” shtick that most artists do. My highlight of the set comes in the form of ‘Did You Hear The Rain’, a rare moment of darkness for the Bristolian scribe. It’s a gnarly bluesy number, the first song I actually heard of Ezra’s actually. I remember hearing it for the first time on Absolute Radio (for my sins), thinking this is going to be a huge hit, and being slightly disappointed when ‘Budapest’ ended up being his breakthrough. And I guess that sums up my mood for tonight. Slightly disappointed.

I knew exactly what I was going to get, I should be feeling happy but instead I feel a little bit empty. I long for Passenger’s passionate pleas for systemic change and lovelorn poetry, but instead I am confronted with the equivalent of the ‘Happy Happy Joy Joy’ track from Ren & Stimpy on a loop. When it works, it really does work. Ezra plays his best track ‘Paradise’ towards the end, and the particles of joy do briefly infect me. ‘Budapest’ and ‘Shotgun’ are undoubtedly big singalong moments, the latter in particular, making me long for those summer nights that are tantalisingly in grasp. Alas, the night ends, and I know this night is bound to wash away like writing on the sand. The Waitrose families hurry home to get their kids to sleep, and everybody else stumbles away to greater glories. What Ezra does, he does very well, but I do long to see some shades of grey in whatever he does next. As it is, I’m feeling a little sunburnt. 

See the view from the pit, captured by Niamh Louise:

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More about: George Ezra