James Blunt: a masterclass of self-deprecation, communal bonhomie and soppy balladry

James Blunt at the Royal Albert Hall – Joseph Okpako

This was never meant to happen to James Blunt. The butt of music industry jokes following the release of his winsomely mushy and inescapable ballad You’re Beautiful in 2005, Blunt was destined to have – at best – a three-album career. But here he is, two decades and seven albums in, playing two long-sold out shows at London’s flagship Royal Albert Hall as part of the biggest-selling tour of his career, a tour that has taken in 15,000-capacity arenas across the UK and will visit similar-sized venues until it wraps in Australia in November.

Add to this last year’s well-received documentary One Brit Wonder (in which Ed Sheeran called him a national treasure) and his scurrilous “non-memoir” Loosely Based on a Made-Up Story, and Blunt is riding the crest of a wave. It’s no wonder the 50-year-old bounded onto the stage looking like a cat who’d got the cream.

The start was shaky. Opening with songs from his latest album Who We Used to Be, its lead single Beside You was a so-so slice of EDM-pop that wouldn’t sound out of place at next month’s Eurovision, while the sliding falsetto chorus of Saving a Life suggested that someone had accidently stepped on the aforementioned cat. But with older tunes Wisemen and Carry You Home, we were in more typical Blunt acoustic singer-songwriter territory. And the gig turned into a hugely enjoyable masterclass of self-deprecation, communal bonhomie and – yes – soppy balladry.

Blunt’s canny. Opprobrium towards him was always fuelled by his posh-boy credentials: Harrow; Bristol University; Sandhurst; the Household Cavalry; a pre-fame friendship with Prince Harry; owning a pub in Chelsea, a villa in Ibiza and a chalet in Verbier. Blunt has countered the carping by pre-empting it with stingingly self-effacing social media posts to millions of followers. As he said in his documentary: “If someone’s just going to come up and punch you, you might as well just punch yourself first.”

At the Albert Hall, he punched himself with gusto. Introducing his long-term band, he said: “The thing is, once they’ve worked with me no-one else wants to work with them.” There were intense moments along with singalongs like Goodbye My Lover and, obviously, You’re Beautiful. Dark Thought dealt with regret and pain over the 2016 death of Blunt’s “best friend ever”, actor Carrie Fisher. The encore included the delicate Monsters, about saying goodbye to a dying father (“While you’re sleeping I’ll try to make you proud”). It was genuinely emotional, a father-son song up there with Mike + The Mechanics’ The Living Years. (His father, who recently recovered from a kidney transplant, will be at the show tonight – hankies at the ready, folks).

The closest equivalent performer I can think of is Rick Astley. Like Blunt he was once lampooned as a cheesy one-hit-wonder but is now also flirting with national treasure status. It’s because both performers know precisely where they fit into the firmament – never been cool, never will be – and rather than resist it, they embrace it. It’s very British. Humour and tenacity (and a megahit) beget longevity.

Last year Blunt said that he wouldn’t take seriously a newspaper rock critic who gave him a good review. Well, whoops. There goes my career.

Until April 14. Tickets: jamesblunt.com

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