Ed Sheeran’s been around the world but now he’s back to his babe…
[Video]
[5.33]
Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: Didn’t this motherfucker already have a hit called “Photograph”?
[3]
Al Varela: It isn’t an Ed Sheeran album without at least one “I love my wife” song. I find it kind of funny that he made an ode to memories in a photograph through “Photograph” but now he’s saying he doesn’t need a camera to cherish those memories. Still, I think the sentiment is very sweet: focusing all your energy on your partner and taking in every moment without worrying about getting out the camera to capture it. Ed’s strength has always been the way he describes being in love and falling for someone, and there’s plenty of that in “Camera”. If anything fails it, it’s unfortunately the production not being as elegant as “Perfect” or as sweeping as “Photograph”. The drums are a bit too harsh, the guitars are nice but not spectacular, but I do like the steel guitar. That was a nice touch.
[7]
Claire Davidson: You know, I’ll give Ed Sheeran this: if “Camera” stuck to the approach he adopts on the first verse, tenderly taking stock of his partner’s subtle, awe-inspiring beauty, I’d like the song a lot—his voice displays a plaintive sincerity that makes that sort of lovestruck approach genuinely poignant. Unfortunately, though, Sheeran is never one to leave a crowd-pleaser hanging, so the song instead defaults to sweeping gusts of cello and guitar, even incorporating blown-out drums by the second chorus. Not only is this play basic, but it also strips the song of all of its pathos, which is grounded in the small-scale intimacy of quieter moments, leaving these sweet observations mere suggestions of sentiment.
[5]
Tim de Reuse: I’m generally pleased to be reminded that Sheeran’s voice has some genuine force to it when he’s not aiming for “Shape of You”-style dreck. Here, you can hear the tiniest squeak of his final chords in the chorus: a little grit that makes the song’s soppiness land as genuine rather than plasticky. But you’ve gotta thread your way through the instrumental to get there, and until the drums come in it’s all corporate tinkling bells and overproduced ambient swoops and other elements more commonly associated with the stock music that ships with Microsoft PowerPoint. If you squint between the chimes you can see a decent tune desperate to squeeze out from behind all the faff.
[4]
Nortey Dowuona: Me to Watt (again!) and to Louis Bell.
[9]
Kayla Beardslee: Released just in time to soundtrack Thanksgiving TV commercials. I have nothing against Ed Sheeran, but this is far from the most remarkable iteration of his album’s obligatory nostalgia song.
[4]
Ian Mathers: You know what, things are so bad right now I can’t even be baffled or annoyed by Ed Sheeran’s prominence. This is fine! True, my most positive thought while listening is “this could be a lot worse” (compared, notably, to either his own singles or his contemporaries’), and I am never going to play it again. But I also won’t be annoyed when I inevitably hear it again somewhere anyway, and that’s… something.
[5]
Alfred Soto: When he went emotive one of his carotid arteries burst and splattered my computer with warm blood. No matter how promiscuously he offers hooks to complement his uxoriousness, he hasn’t learned that in pop we don’t need to see, much less hear, your effort.
[4]
Jel Bugle: “You’re glowing in the dark” muses Ed from the safety of his hazmat suit. Sort of all build-up this, sort of out-Coldplaying Coldplay. I find it hard to hate Ed, a clearly good popstar capable of many different pop styles — the Swiss Army Knife of pop.
[7]