‘I feel betrayed’: inside Ed Sheeran’s controversial return to the stage

“This is not usually how I would open the show,” Ed Sheeran told the crowd at Philadelphia’s Lincoln Financial Field on Saturday night, a humble preamble to a three-plus-minute speech addressing the greatest controversy of his career. Shaky-voiced and stealing glances at the monitor at his feet, he looked every bit the chastened superstar.
“I have tried in my career not to be a political commentator of any kind, because I want my music and shows to be about unity, not division, about humanity, not politics, but this is a humanitarian issue and I cannot hide how I feel about it any more,” Sheeran said. He described the Hamas-led attack at the Nova music festival in Israel on 7 October 2023, as “horrific” and expressed heartbreak over civilian deaths in Gaza and the West Bank, describing the situation as “catastrophic and unjustified and disproportionate”.
He ended his speech with an appeal to “love, hope and unity”.
“Everyone here can stand by people that they don’t agree with on everything, but they can always agree on singing these songs,” he declared shortly before launching into Castle on a Hill, a rousing anthem about growing up in rural England. The guitar jangled, fireworks lit into the sky and pastoral scenes filled a giant screen behind the pop star as fans sang along. There was an overwhelming sense, between Sheeran and his ecstatic audience, of wanting to turn the page.
Cindy Lucente, a 73-year-old retiree who attended the show with her daughter and granddaughter, described the speech as “eloquent” and said that she was impressed by Sheeran’s mettle.

“People kept telling me I should probably get rid of my ticket because he’s going to cancel,” she said. “But I knew he wouldn’t.”
The night marked Sheeran’s return to the stage after the rapper Macklemore was removed from the tour after controversy erupted over his remarks during a performance at MetLife Stadium in New Jersey on 5 September. In a statement shared to Instagram last Tuesday, Sheeran said that he faced pressure from venue owners – including Robert Kraft, the billionaire who owns Gillette Stadium and the New England Patriots – to excise Macklemore from the lineup but that his removal “was the promoter’s decision, it was not mine”. The statement was met with widespread condemnation, with detractors accusing Sheeran of cowing to corporate interests and putting profit over freedom of expression.
“I feel betrayed about how he handled this,” said Hillary Steinberg, a 34-year-old sociology PhD who was among the pro-Palestine protesters gathered outside the NRG metro station, a group that reached about 100 at one stage. “It has sort of soured how I think about him as an artist.”
After getting her ticket refunded earlier in the week, Steinberg decided to come to the stadium and try convincing others to do the same. She wore a black and white keffiyeh and held a sign that read: “If you leave now you will have more spine than Ed Sheeran.” By the end of the night, she said that she and her boyfriend had convinced “at least five” other people to get refunds.
Despite reported safety concerns and fears of an outright cancellation, the mood at Lincoln Financial Field was light and at times triumphant. The singer repeatedly invoked the controversy but spoke in broad terms and with an air of self-deprecation. He did not mention Kraft or Macklemore by name.
“I hope you enjoyed the opening acts – I heard they were great,” Sheeran joked early in the show, waving off concerns about having to carry the event alone. Per its moniker, the Loop Tour mostly features Sheeran performing solo and utilizing a looping pedal to create his own soundscapes.

One of the night’s many standing ovations came after Sheeran brought out a group of musicians, led by the fiddler Alicia Enstrom, to back him on a number of songs including the lilting Galway Girl. The Irish folk band Beoga, which had played behind Sheeran during this section on earlier stops, was among the acts who dropped out in solidarity with Macklemore. They were joined by the Danish band Lukas Graham, the Irish singer Aaron Rowe and Finneas – brother to Billie Eilish and a musician in his own right – who was slated to join Sheeran for a South American leg later this year.
Sheeran made it clear that Enstrow and the others were to be Beoga’s replacement.
“They said yes to being onstage with the knowledge that the world thought that I was a certain type of person,” Sheeran said to rapturous cheers from the audience.
Melody Fillier, a 49-year-old who works in the pharmaceuticals industry, was among those who applauded the new backing band.

“They had balls,” she said. “The other ones didn’t.”
The other conspicuous change was the absence of a retractable bridge and smaller “B stage”, which had positioned the singer much closer to the crowd during intimate sections of earlier shows. Sheeran explained that he didn’t want to risk having things thrown at him.
“I took the B stage out because I was afraid what might happen if I stood in the middle, and I will admit that,” he said, grinning sheepishly.
Throughout the night, Sheeran returned again and again to themes of political harmony. The pop star appeared less defiant than humbled, repeatedly describing the concert as the greatest of his career. It seems unlikely that his words, which mostly served to justify the actions of the preceding week, will satisfy his critics. But in the City of Brotherly Love, where the stadium appeared mostly full even as the concert stretched past the three-hour mark, fans of the singer seemed more than satisfied.
“I didn’t come here for politics,” said Tim Matkosky, a 59-year-old entrepreneur who was among those who stayed to the bitter end, up on their feet and dancing as the bassline thumped and fire plumes filled the air. “I came here to get away from politics.”
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