In one scene in the recent documentary Lewis Capaldi: How I’m Feeling Now (no apologies to Charli XCX!), the Scottish singer’s uniquely graceless manager shares his fears over the slow gestation of his act’s second album, and the apparently underwhelming demos he’s delivered thus far. “I’ve definitely put all my eggs in one basket,” the manager says, right in front of him. Even the usually unflappable Capaldi—an endearing gobshite not shy about posting Instagram videos from the toilet—looks taken aback: “He says ‘eggs in one basket’ as if I’m not here and not Lewis Capaldi whose name is on it.”
He also says it as if Capaldi isn’t evidently in the throes of a mental health crisis, weathering imposter syndrome, writer’s block, and the tightening grip of Tourette’s (which manifests in aggressive full-body twitching) as he crumples under the pressure of following up not only the UK’s biggest-selling album of 2019, but 2020 as well. The balladeer’s lovelorn debut, Divinely Uninspired to a Hellish Extent, filled the chart gaps between Ed Sheeran albums and established Capaldi, with his tornado-strength choruses and plainspoken heartbreak, as The Boy Adele, while his lethally funny social media persona minted viral gold—precisely the sort of asset that the music industry is not about to let go quietly.
The film starts in August 2022, with Capaldi being interviewed onstage at an industry event in London. He convulses violently while giving deadpan answers about wanting to stick precisely to the formula established on his debut, because reinvention is overrated. The audience laughs along. I was there, and left haunted by the disparity of the crisis that appeared to be unfolding and the cheery (some might say venal!) business-as-usual atmosphere, which Capaldi seemed to have embraced creatively at least. But the documentary later reveals that this night proved a turning point: His parents pulled the plug and he got four months off to address his health. We revisit him two weeks back into business, conveniently feeling much better, on the cusp of a UK No. 1 single (bolstered by signed CD copies that retailed for 99 pence, unsurprisingly not mentioned), and with an album finally in the bag. Ta-da! A happy ending! Champagne corks litter EMI’s carpets.
So what magic was wrought to bring Broken by Desire to Be Heavenly Sent to satisfactory completion? Capaldi and his co-writers have stuffed the basket with every egg they have in hopes of reminding listeners why they liked him in the first place. I cannot remember an album that suffered from such an extreme case of risk-aversion, nor demonstrated so little faith in an artist’s potential, nor any notion that their fanbase might be willing to grow with them. If anything, it shrinks his already narrow proposition. Any number of these potential bank-advert ballads sound like his debut’s “Someone You Loved” (which had one of the longest-ever climbs to No. 1 on the Billboard Hot 100) and it’s no mistake. When Capaldi points this out in the documentary, his manager responds: “That’s a good thing—not to be condescending but people love things that just sound the same.” Nearly every song starts gently, with Capaldi’s voice in its appealing conversational mode—a little boyish and uncertain, as if trying to reach someone—before a chorus smashes in like a wrecking ball. You can set your watch by them: “Haven’t You Ever Been in Love Before?” literally contains the sound of a ticking clock to remind you to brace for impact.
