Sunday sounds: what a fandom can do
Lewis Capaldi was never on any of my numerous - work, leisure, driving - playlists. Until yesterday, when I randomly stumbled upon this gem. I should hope I was one of the last people on Earth to be completely unaware of what happened during his concert at the 2023 Glastonbury Festival:
For context, Capaldi was diagnosed early 2022 with Tourette's syndrome, a rather rare occurrence at his age. In his case, this translates in jerky, uncontrolled shoulder twitches and a complete inability to sing.
The Glastonbury concert followed, in his own words, a three week-long break due to one of those annoying episodes. Something he acknowledged in the very opening of this clip. But then you can easily see he is unwell: the twitching is already present and the short intro ends with 'thank you very, very, fucking much' - a sure telltale sign.
It soon becomes painfully obvious it will be next to impossible for him to finish his song, one of his greatest hits, in what clearly is a random flare-up. It is unfair. It is heartbreaking. You cannot help but feel deeply for this guy, and also salute his bravery - the mix, an overpowering emotion.
And then, something extraordinary happened. When it became evident his voice was unable to deliver, the fans took over and carried Capaldi, his music and his story - warts and all - further. They did not flinch. They did not boo. They did not poke fun. They were there for him, just as his song was there for them, when they felt clueless, hurt or lost.
This is one of the most beautiful moments of collective goodness I have seen in a very long time.
Capaldi's courage was instantly rewarded by more than one hundred thousand persons who attended that concert, when his own nervous system betrayed him while performing in front of them. He never lied to them. He allowed powerless tears to flow in full view of the cameras. But he never ran off stage, hiding and pretending nothing happened or blaming God knows who or what else.
Food for thought.
















