We laughed, we sang, we felt like our hearts were beating out of our chests, and many of us cried. Note to anyone going to the Auckland and Aussie shows – waterproof mascara is a must.
It was Capaldi’s first time in Christchurch, and he promised it would not be his last.
He apologised – profusely – for cancelling New Zealand tour dates in 2023 when he announced a break from music to get his “physical and mental health in order” and to “adjust to the impact” of his Tourette syndrome.
He said he “felt like sh*t” pulling the pin, but “it was the right thing to do”.
“Now I’m in the best form of my life – I feel amazing,” he revealed.
“There was a time when I didn’t think this would be possible… tonight is going as well as it possibly could.
“It’s good to be here… I’ve been dying to come back. And we’re here, we’re back, it feels good, we’re excited.”
I’m not one for spoiling a set list – but all the oldies and goodies and tearjerkers and heartbreakers are there.
Personal highlights included Survive, Grace, Pointless, Forget Me and Someone You Loved. But every word Capaldi sang was beyond exceptional. Flawless, even.
You can tell, see and feel that performing is exactly what Capaldi was born for. There are no gimmicks, no bells and whistles, no tinsel and trimmings – just a lad and his guitar and piano and mic and THAT voice.
It’s a voice that rings with longing and vibrates with vulnerability.
There is an achingly beautiful roughness to it, as if every word he utters has clawed its way up from somewhere deep and unfiltered.
Capaldi’s voice doesn’t just tell a story; it barrels straight through you, leaving the emotional equivalent of sparks, smoke, and a stubborn echo that lingers long after the last notes of his songs.
As a performer, he is like a deep and powerful storm front rolling in over a quiet horizon. A low rumble that builds and then finally erupts into lightning.
His is the sound of a man scraped raw by heartbreak and stitched back together with humour, humanity and humility.
“Lewis isn’t just surviving, he’s returning even stronger, heart wide open, and ready to step out again,” his tour announcement said.
“After weathering the kind of storm that few can prepare for, Lewis Capaldi returns with a renewed sense of purpose.”
And that purpose was evident last night. From the moment he opened his mouth to the final fading note, he was magnetic, a force you couldn’t look away from.
Start to finish, he carried the room with a power that never wavered. From the softest whisper to the final crescendo, he was extraordinary.
Capaldi had been on my musical bucket list since I saw his Netflix documentary Lewis Capaldi: How I’m Feeling Now. A must-see, whether you are a fan or not, in my opinion.
The doco charts the singer’s explosive rise from small-town musician to global superstar, capturing the dizzying pressure that followed his record-breaking debut album Divinely Uninspired to a Hellish Extent and his retreat home to write a second album.
It is an intimate and very raw look at fame – without the polish.
What makes the film truly powerful is Capaldi’s honesty about mental health – his anxiety, panic attacks and the worsening tics that eventually led to his Tourette’s diagnosis.
His openness – like his songwriting – is disarming and brave.
Last night on stage, Capaldi shared his story with the same level of candour. His dry and quick humour softened the edges, but his frankness about his struggles and challenges landed with a quiet power.
It’s that kind of openness that helps normalise conversations so many people struggle to have — and Capaldi deserves huge praise for using his platform that way.
Capaldi takes the show to Auckland on December 2 and then across the Tasman for sets in Brisbane, Sydney, Melbourne, Adelaide and Perth.
I would go to every single one if I could.
