Zayn Malik isn’t particularly fond of touring. It’s the word on the lips of everyone in the scrum outside the eventim Apollo tonight, an expectant London crowd awaiting the return of a generational pop icon. Since the closure of One DirectionZayn’s solo career has been stop-start, as he navigated personal issues in the process. He remains, however, Zayn Malik – and the tension, excitement, and longing in the air is palpable.
Squeezing past some disappointed punters left outside, CLASH retrieves its ticket from the booth, only to discover that we’ve been handed a second ticket, too. Spotting a mother and daughter looking confused at the ticket desk, we do a swap-around with the kind man behind the desk, and suddenly we’re in a different seat, and the parental duo are joyously climbing the steps into the Apollo.
With good karma under our wings, we trot down to our seat, slightly bemused by the looks we’re getting from the crowd. They’re young. Sometimes very young. We are… maybe not? Upon finding our seat we’re immediately cross-examined by the pair of Zayn stans placed next to us.
“Are you REALLY a Directioner? Really?” they ask.
“Oh, obviously,” CLASH responds, in a tone so flatly assuring that not even the FBI could crack it. Sensing an awkwardness, we offer: “Are you a big Zayn fan, then?”
It’s then that she fixes her eyes mid-distance with a burning intensity, and answers with the kind of explosive assurance that only youth can offer: “He is the most beautiful man in the world.”
It’s the screams that get you. When the curtain falls and Zayn emerges the voices are deafening, almost beyond belief. It’s a wall of noise, a shuddering screech of pent-up desperation – joy and lust, longing and relief, all fused into one titanic tidal wave of sound. For his part, Zayn is bashful – shy, even. The voice is pristine, the band are exceptional – it’s a tight sound that blends R&B, pop and (especially) Americana, reflective of the journey he’s been on.
For someone who seemingly doesn’t enjoy touring, and the pressure of live performance, Zayn doesn’t hold back. It’s an 18-strong set list, delivered succinctly, with the minimum of fuss – all music, no hype. He’s clad in a Nirvana t-shirt and a loose top, a porkpie hat annointed on his head. Every detail, every hand gesture counts – when Zayn opts to remove his top, the screams reach new, almighty levels.
At times, he’s semi-stunned, not sure how to respond. “Fuck yeah, you guys are loud!” he offers, laughing self-consciously in the process. It’s been a long road to get here – at one point, fans could be forgiven for feeling that Zayn was lost to music. The gospel touches in opening song ‘My Woman’ offer something soothing, while ‘Dreamin’ and ‘Lied To’ are early highlights. The pacing is patient, the band behind him immaculately well-rehearsed.
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It’s never marbled, or overly professional. There’s a humanity to Zayn Malik that he can’t hide – the Yorkshire twang is still there, and for all his evident shy reserve there’s also a quiet joy at being onstage. Repeatedly thanking the crowd – “you guys are sooooo loud!” – there’s a sense of genuine relief onstage. ‘Ignorance Ain’t Bliss’ is a wonderful mid-set vignette, ‘Sweat’ is packed with the lust, while ‘iT’s YoU’ is a deft duet between vocalist and piano.
There’s a couple of surprises, too. ‘Last Request’ honours Paolo Nutiniand serves as a great vessel for the soulful aspects of Zayn’s own voice. There’s a revealing introduction to ‘PILLOWTALK’: “The reason – one reason – I didn’t tour for so long was that I was afraid to sing this song…”
Zayn needn’t have worried. The audience acts as a cushion underneath him, their love and support pushing him up when needed. ‘PILLOWTALK’ is gorgeous, rapturously received, while a home run of ‘Alienated’ and ‘Gates Of Hell’ ties up a punctual performance that offers everything fans could have wanted – and more.
There’s a sense of quiet exhaustion at the end, when a tribute to Liam Payne flashes up onscreen. ‘Stardust’ plays, and there’s a moment of pause as the crowd engages in mutual reflection. One Direction helped to frame the coming-of-age experiences of a generation, their music bringing incalculable joy to millions across the globe. It’s a true sin, then, that the intense experiences of fame brought so much pressure and pain to the young men who powered that phenomenon. Zayn Malik is a wonderful vocalist, someone with fantastic pop songs in his solo canon – he’s also, as the girl next to us so succinctly put it, one of the most beautiful men we’ve ever seen onstage. He may not tour that often, but we wish him nothing but happiness.
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Words: Robin Murray
Photo Credit: Daniel Prakopcyk
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