words by Nicole Dragos

This is not the soundtrack for heartbreak recovery, consider yourself warned. Play is a burst of energy, laced with the classic Ed Sheeran sounds that we know and love, yet twisted into shapes we’ve never quite heard before. What at first disguised as a simple upbeat anthem transforms into something almost theatrical, and at times even a rap battle between Ed and his microphone, every syllable a jab, every chorus a counterpunch.

Ed was adventurous with this album as he played around with Indian and Persian influences which may or may not be to the taste of some critics. But nonetheless, Ed’s experimentation and bravery with this album worked incredibly well, adding a new flavour to his discography. As for the vibe of the album as a whole? Prepare for a shape-shifting journey of dance breaks and heart wrenching vulnerability. There is a clear divide, not to pun the album Divide, between the cheerful first few songs of the album and the raw and nostalgic, a declaration of love poetry.

The album unfolds with a kaleidoscope of colour through the opening tracks such as Sapphire and Azizam, each track sizzling with vibrancy and rhythm. But as the record progresses, a shift occurs as the neon fades into candlelight, and Ed leads us down a softer, more emotional path.

Camera feels like an echo from his past, the long-lost sister of Photograph perhaps. Then, without warning, the floodgates burst. In Other Words arrives raw and vulnerable, a song that aches with longing. It reads like a private love letter inked with fragility, a plea for surrender. 

** I find myself tearing up whilst writing this on a crowded train surrounded by the chants of anti-immigration protestors. This, to me, is proof of Ed’s uncanny ability to cut through chaos and speak directly to the heart.**

And then—BOOM. Enter A Little More, my current obsession. With the line “I used to love you, now every day I hate you just a little more,” Ed plunges into the messy universality of love turned into resentment. It’s raw, it’s real, and his rap delivery is nothing short of ferocious.

Slowly follows, drenched in nostalgia. It’s the kind of track that feels like home and heartbreak all at once. It’s ambiguous enough to be about a fading romance but equally can be applied to the loss of a friend, a parent, even a beloved pet. Ed Sheeran once again leaves the canvas half-painted, inviting us to fill in the blanks with our own personal grief and longing.

Then comes Don’t Look Down. The beat is impossible not to bop along to, yet the lyrics shimmer with melancholy: “It’s almost over, don’t look down.” The juxtaposition is classic Ed, as an upbeat melody that masks a fragile desire for determination. For me, the song paints the image of walking a tightrope, the light of hope ahead but always threatening to vanish with a simple misstep. It carries the same bittersweet ache as Taylor Swift’s Soon You’ll Get Better—and yes, I’ll always find a way to sneak Taylor into the conversation.Altogether, Play is an album that marries vitality with vulnerability, anger with sincerity. Here at Starfreak Mag, we’re not just impressed, we’re hungry to see where this new era will take him. A tour announcement, perhaps? One can only hope.

Photos credit @teddysphotos