How Ed Sheeran represents the rise of a new kind of male swagger that is both cutesy and inoffensive
Ed Sheeran must be the only bloke from sleepy Suffolk to brag about hooking up with Taylor Swift’s mates — and be telling the truth. In a recent interview with Rolling Stone, the multi-platinum boy-nextdoor singer spoke about attracting the affections of beautiful women despite his uncool image.
“I was this 22-year-old awkward British kid going on tour with the biggest artist in America, who has all these famous mates,” he said, describing a period of time in 2013, before he got together with his childhood friend Cherry Seaborn. “I would often find myself in situations just kind of waking up and looking over and being like, ‘How the f *** did that happen?’ ”
Before you spend too long grappling with that question yourself, it’s worth noting that the anecdote is classic Sheeran: at once self-deprecating and boastful; quotidian and abnormal. A humblebrag from the king of humblebragging.
Sheeran’s chart-topping new album Divide is littered with similar remarks. “With my beaten small guitar, wearing the same old jeans/ Wembley Stadium crowd’s two-hundred-and-forty-thou’ ”, he sings on album opener Eraser, as though security have inexplicably failed to stop him wondering in off the streets.
“I’m just a boy with a one-man show,” he intones later on a track titled What Do I Know — a question that has possibly gone through the mind of more than one producer / manager / record label exec / roadie attached to the Sheeran juggernaut.
The album is breaking records right, left and centre-stage — but it hasn’t found favour in all corners. One particularly eviscerating review from Pitchfork took aim at Sheeran’s “humblebraggadocio and innocence”, dismissing it as a false, pompous act.
Humblebraggadocio is a good way of describing the trend in British culture to sideline traditional, muscular braggadocio in favour of a cutesy, inoffensive version of attractiveness. Today
Out-and-out bravado is anathema to this new breed of leading man and his followers. For proof, just look at how Alpha Male Kanye West’s claim from the Glastonbury pyramid stage to be “the greatest living rock star” was received.
Arguably, the Brits are best at humblebraggadocio, and we have Hugh Grant to thank. His unique brand of affected ineffectiveness won him more hearts than any James Dean-style swagger ever could, and whilst this was helped in large part by his famously good looks, it spawned a generation of more ordinary looking men achieving roughly the same effect.
Take James Corden. His delivery on television is sugary sweet, with a doughy eyed, straight-down-thebarrel-of-the-camera earnestness to rival that of Nick Clegg. Corden’s “cracked” America with his viral Carpool Karaoke series, in which A-list celebs are brought down into the his very ordinary, humble, everyday world — just singing in the car, something we can all relate to.
His success has confused traditional showbiz alpha males who’ve tried to take him down a peg or two. In an excruciatingly awkward exchange, Star Trek leading man Patrick Stewart arguably made a fool of himself by telling Corden that “if you fancy the Jonas Brothers, don’t let them see your belly”.
Likewise, David Letterman — a man who oozed on-screen intellect and charisma in the mould of the traditional Alpha — disparagingly referred to Corden as some “tubby kid”.
Both remarks failed to understand that it’s precisely his under- dog status that Corden uses to his advantage, turning Beta into Alpha with the flourish of a magician. He may not be the best looking man in Hollywood, but he can make a good stab at being the most likeable.
Nor is it just awkward, geeky men using humblebraggadocio. On the subject of pocket money, 39-year-old millionaire Chris Martin recently told an interviewer that he still receives three pounds a week from his Mum. And here’s Gary Barlow recounting, in an interview alongside his mum, the day he was awarded his OBE: “It was a good day. The best bit happened after really, didn’t it? Because I’d made a stew at home. We’d got the award, done the pictures, raced home, we all tucked into this stew that I’d made earlier.”
Pocket money and stew: don’t you just want to give them a cuddle and tussle their hair?
Humblebraggadocio has become part of the fabric of British pop cultural life. It’s everywhere, from Oscar-winning Eddie Redmayne discussing his dishwasher breaking down during rehearsals to comedy giant Ricky Gervais courting superstardom in America whilst making sentimental, cloying work about ordinary people in the UK (and insisting he shuns material things and still only goes to an ordinary barber.)
Where did it come from? Perhaps the hipsters have the answer. We’ve come to think of hipsters as bearded, checked shirt wearing, lumberjack lookalikes — but that’s only the latest iteration. In their original guise hipsters were art graduates and misfits; geeks and boffins; beta males who ironised the mainstream. They were so uncool they were cool. Remind you of anyone?
Anyway, it’s not all so bad. Sheeran and co may have turned the humblebrag into an artform, but at least it’s an antidote to the traditional arrogance of celebrity. Muscular masculinity passed its sell-by date long ago; this new, calmer version should be applauded for remaining true to its roots — even if it can’t resist a sly boast about sexual conquests from time to time.
Just went to a function at The House of Lords then popped in to The Ivy. No one suspects I used to regularly wake up in my own wee & vomit. — Ricky Gervais (@rickygervais) March 13, 2012