Lewis Capaldi reveals the secret behind his triumphant return to music after mental health battle and traumatic Glastonbury performance convinced him his career was over
Capaldi was headlining at the Worthy Farm music festival in 2023 when his well publicised struggle with Tourette's manifested itself in front of thousands of fans.
Emotional footage captures revellers singing the lyrics to his hit single Someone You Loved in unison after he struggled to complete the performance.
Reflecting on the performance, Capaldi, 28 - who has teamed up with BetterHelp, the world's largest online therapy platform, for a new promotional campaign - admits he thought it would be the last of his career.
'I think I probably knew two songs into the set at Glastonbury that I couldn't do it,' he said. 'Glastonbury's obviously a big deal - it's kind of like the biggest deal - and it was the Pyramid Stage, so it was a big old gig.
'Second song in I was like probably like, I can't keep doing this to myself and other people as well. People are coming to gigs, it's not how you want to watch a show. And as far as I was concerned, I was like "I'm done indefinitely."'
The singer-songwriter subsequently announced a hiatus from music while he prioritised his mental health, but looking back he believes he also needed a complete break from the industry as a whole.
'I didn't take a break to just focus on getting better,' he said. 'I took a break because I needed a break, and to sort of release the pressure valve a little bit.'
Tourette's, a neurological condition characterised by a combination of involuntary noises and movements called tics, can cause speech and voice abnormalities.
Fans were widely praised for helping Capaldi through his 2023 Glastonbury slot after the condition derailed his performance - with many describing it as a beautiful moment of solidarity.
But the talented singer-songwriter admits he views the incident through a darker lens.
'I watch it back and I actually feel sad, watching it,' he admits. 'I don't watch it back as everyone else does, and they go "what an incredible moment."
'It is a beautiful moment, and people were really helping me, and they helped me get through it. They made it a much less embarrassing moment. If people weren't singing along it would've been pretty bleak.'
He added: 'The reason I got so anxious in the first place was because I wasn't living in the moment at all. I was catastrophising, thinking about all the things that could go wrong.
'I don't think I was present enough to appreciate what was happening when it was happening, and that's why when I watch it back now - because it is an uplifting thing to watch - I don't look at it as an uplifting, happy video.'
Hashtags
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
The Guardian
23 minutes ago
- The Guardian
‘It feels an almost holy moment': the beauty and magic of reading aloud to children
'So,' my father would ask, after the bath and the doing of teeth, as if the answer was unknown, 'what's it going to be?' 'Shady Glade!' 'Right! Shady Glade …' And sitting on my bed in our basement flat in London, for the thirty-third time, he would recite (and pretend to read), in exactly the same warm, alerting, storytelling tone, as if he had never seen them before, the first lines. He would have just done the same thing for my brother, now in a deep doze on the other side of the room, with The Gnats of Knotty Pine, while in the kitchen in my pyjamas I gave my nightly reading of Peter and Jane and Pat the Dog to my mother. His beautiful voice, which was soft and rich and clever, was the last thing I heard every day for years; being read to is the routine I remember best from my early childhood, before they split up, and we moved to Wales and our mother took up reading to us. The nights she gave us Astrid Lindgren's The Brothers Lionheart were spellbinding. Dad was a broadcaster. Mum had been an actress. They were super performers. When my turn to read to my child came, I discovered all the pleasures of the bedside performance. One is the chance of escape through absorption. When Aubrey was small, I commuted between home in the Pennines and teaching in Liverpool, in more or less constant movement through the weeks, and only when I was working with students or reading to Aubrey was my anxious and tugging inner self stilled. And I can recognise that absorption and pleasure on my father's face when I think of him now. It's a particular time, reading to and being read to, a quietly magical time for a child, especially snug in your covers, watching and listening to an adult giving themselves entirely to entertaining you. Being an audience of two to the story of the book is lovely, too, a companionship something like equality across generations, across the gulfs between childhood and the adult world. Dad took us on boating holidays after the divorce; with the little cabin cruiser moored for the night, and the black Thames slithering under the keel, he set about EB White's Charlotte's Web, and Russell Hoban's The Mouse and His Child. Whenever he found a funny passage, his delight and amusement were beautiful; the cabin chimed with our laughter and snorted with giggles. Unlike me, Dad timed reading so that we heard a chapter or section and were then bid goodnight, kissed, and the light was turned off. When I began bedtime reading, to my then partner's six-year-old, Robin, I soon realised that the aim was not necessarily to entrance and delight, but to render unconscious. We did whatever Robin wanted, including Jeff Kinney's Diary of a Wimpy Kid, and manuals on Bionicles (a race of plastic space robots with which he was in love), and Derek Landy's Skullduggery Pleasant. Michael Morpurgo's War Horse we met in our tiny studio flat in Verona, and also Robert Westall's The Machine Gunners, one of my favourites ever, which Dad had sent to me from London in the years when he was there, and we were up the mountain, with a note – I thought this might be up your street. Although I knew The Machine Gunners well, reading aloud is different, more powerful. In moments of this and War Horse I struggled not to cry, fighting not to embarrass Robin and break the spell. With even the most gripping books I found I could change gear, after the appropriate while, from an entertaining rendition, designed to engage Robin, to a soporific monotone, to knock him out. One evening in Verona we began one of David Walliams' books. The flat was a one-bedroom, and Robin slept on a sofa bed in the kitchen-diner. His mother, Rebecca, often curled up with him to listen, and often they both fell asleep. There is a time then that readers aloud know, when you raise your eyes from the page and look at some one or two you love most in the world, your now dreaming audience, and though you do not think it consciously, perhaps, the truth is that their gentle sleep is a gift you have helped, that night, to give them, and it feels an almost holy moment. When you read aloud to your partner or your child the room and the world beyond it seem to still, and the spirits gather to hear the story. Words uttered are more than words heard in the silence of the mind; they are things in the world, and the world responds. Sometimes, depending on where you live, in the hoot of an owl … Robin was six when I met him and about twelve the last time I read to him, so I knew something of what to expect and to try when Aubrey reached that stage. But I knew nothing about those first half-dozen years. Sign up to Saved for Later Catch up on the fun stuff with Guardian Australia's culture and lifestyle rundown of pop culture, trends and tips after newsletter promotion It is the show-off, the actor in me, who loves reading to him so much, I know. But it is also a love of parenting in the root meaning of the word, a bringing forth, of the listener's attention, marvel, laughter and thought. Reading aloud is also a self-parenting, in the bringing forth of the voices, feeling, and tones from the reader. And it is a team sport, as it were, while reading to yourself is all about individual skill. Not all children love to read. They absorb narrative through talk and games and films and their friends and their YouTubers and that is fine, I learned, despite my initial panic when neither Robin nor Aubrey showed any great love of print. They still loved stories, and they loved being read to. If he was tired, Aubrey would ask me to read Mum's current Greek myth (Rebecca was teaching herself to be a Classics A-level teacher at the time) or switch to something 'not exciting'. This was the cue to put down The Hobbit or whatever for whatever I was reading, and, I noticed, writing. The knock- out drop of his childhood proved to be my own Down to the Sea in Ships – I don't think he has ever made it past the second page, and we have read it often – which was gratifying if not flattering. As he and his days grew longer, the knock-out was often all we had time for, though he excels at the well-timed question or thought, only partly designed to keep you talking and put off going to sleep. As is the way of memory, I expect Aubrey will recall more of these times, these nights, these books, as he grows older, if not perhaps as I remember them now, in great range and detail: he was only very young and going to sleep for most of them, after all. When we talked about this essay, I ran a few by him, to yesses, noes, and ums, until I said, 'Philip Hoare's whale! The Sea Inside!' 'I remember that!' he cried, immediately. No wonder. The writer is hanging in fathomlessly deep water off the Azores and a sperm whale approaches. The whale sonar-scans the man with his clicks, and the two creatures hang there, the great beast and the little being, as Philip describes the way a whale can make a cannonball of sound, a weapon to stun a squid, and the two look at each other in a kind of whale's peace. It is the most beautiful passage, and we read it night after night, hanging beside Philip and the whale in exactly the same place at last, in that wonder between life and sleep. This is an edited extract of an essay, The gifts of being read to, by Horatio Clare. It is featured in The Gifts of Reading for the Next Generation, an anthology curated by Jennie Orchard
Glasgow Times
24 minutes ago
- Glasgow Times
Lewis Capaldi: I cried my eyes out at secret Scottish gigs
Capaldi, the Glasgow-born singer known for hits such as Someone You Loved, went on hiatus after struggling with symptoms of Tourette's during a performance at Glastonbury in 2023. He made a major comeback during 2025's Glastonbury festival, performing his new song Survive, which over the weekend was named the UK number one, to a crowd of some 100,000 people. Speaking to BetterHelp – the world's largest online-therapy platform – Capaldi said that he had returned to the stage in Scotland for some 'secret gigs' to 'ease in' to performing again before his Glastonbury return. 'It felt weird that the first time I would ever be on stage, after going away for my mental health, would be to throw me into doing 100,000 people at Glastonbury,' he said. 'So we did these warm up shows in Scotland.' Asked how he'd felt during those shows, Capaldi said: 'I cried. I cried my eyes out. 'I wasn't really nervous at all walking on, and then the first one was in Edinburgh and I walked on stage and played the first two songs and I was like: 'This is going great, this is completely fine'. 'And then I got this rush of adrenaline, I was like shaking and stuff … It was really mental. It was such a weird feeling.' He went on: 'Before I did the last song, I was explaining to everybody who was there how grateful I was that they had showed up and come along. 'I think I didn't realise how much I actually miss being on stage, and then I just started to cry.' READ NEXT: 'We apologise': Latest on Glasgow City Council's cyber attack READ NEXT: 18 road safety schemes to be installed in Glasgow streets - what we know Capaldi was speaking as he and BetterHelp announced a collaboration to offer people 734,000 hours of free therapy – representing his 734-day career break. 'Therapy has been a massive part of the reason why I'm able to be a musician again,' Capaldi said. 'I don't think I'll ever stop going to therapy after the impact it's had on my life over the past two years. 'I want to support my fans as they've supported me, which is why I'm donating 734,000 hours together with BetterHelp.' 'We've seen through our data that globally three in four people agree that seeking mental health support is important, yet most people are afraid to ask for help,' said Sara Brooks, chief growth officer at BetterHelp. 'To have someone as globally recognised as Lewis Capaldi share so authentically how getting help through online therapy has transformed his life is incredibly powerful. We're grateful to have Lewis speak up and use his platform to help break down the stigma of therapy.' Visit for more information about the partnership and to access a free month of therapy.
Daily Mail
36 minutes ago
- Daily Mail
Jason Manford makes plea to local Facebook group to find the Tesla driver who pranged his car
Jason Manford has posted a message on his local Facebook community group looking for the person who pranged his car. A hand-written note was left on his vehicle by an eyewitness, who claimed to have seen a 'black or blue Tesla ' hit his front bumper at 11.23am. However, they did not leave any contact details, and did not reveal if they, or another motorist, was the culprit of the crash. So in a bid to find out their identity, father-of-six Jason, 43, attached a picture of the note on the, We Love Bramhall community Facebook page. The note reads: 'A black/blue Tesla hit your from bumper 11:23AM. Hope this helps!' He also added the caption: 'Thanks to the person who wrote this note today in Bramhall Precinct Car Park. 'I don't want to put this person in our group, or even worse, on my own social media pages. 'So if anyone knows who it is, or it's you, can you please get in touch and pay for the damage you caused.' MailOnline has approached Jason's representatives for comment. Jason's Facebook call out comes days after he launched a stinging attack on 'ridiculous' hotel policy on social media after he was forced to share a room with his friend because it was overbooked. The comedian had arrived in Bournemouth on Saturday night ahead of a show the following evening during his A Manford All Seasons tour. But staff at the Village Hotel told him it had been overbooked for the night - and that because he had arrived so late, his room had been sold to someone else. Jason went on to blast the chain, which has 33 hotels in the UK, explaining in a video that he had no choice but to share a room with his friend Steve. Filming himself walking to the hotel room, he said: 'So we got to our hotel tonight in Bournemouth and it's fully booked. We were like, 'Fine, that's good - well done you!' Jason - who had a show at the Bournemouth Pavillion the following night - then issued a warning to his followers about using the hotel, before calling the chain out directly and reprimanding them as 'naughty'. He said: 'Oh well, these things happen and all that. Worse things happen at sea. But Village Hotel, just beware, if you are booking and it's a busy day in a busy city... 'I mean, we're lucky that [our booking] was two rooms because that fella coming behind us, a doctor as well, and no room for him. He just had to walk out, and like and there's no rooms anywhere in Bournemouth tonight. 'Naughty that, naughty. I've heard of aeroplanes doing it, but I've never known in 25 years of touring, a hotel doing it. That's not on, that is not on.' Panning the camera around to reveal the two single beds in the room, he concluded the video by saying: 'So we've managed to make best of our situation. But that poor doctor, maybe he could sleep on the floor! Anyway, good night.' He captioned the clip: 'What's your minimum expectation when you book a room at @Villagehotelsup? Staff were lovely but policy stinks!' The next day, Manford returned to social media to explain that hotel management had been in touch, and they also asked him to take down his first video. 'They went, 'No, no, as in like without you'. So me and Steve, obviously [we're] in separate rooms. And then we just discovered that basically if it's fully booked it means that, [you have to share].' The comedian added: 'Okay, don't worry, it is what it is, these things happen - all that b******t! I mean we spent all day together! Oh, well, at least we've got a nice view of the car park.' But the star flatly refused to delete the post, explaining that he wanted to leave it up to warn people about the company's practice and to offer support to the hotel staff that had to face the umbrage of upset customers. He began: 'This is the final word I'll say on this. I know the general manager of the Village Hotel's got in touch with the manager at the Bournemouth one and came and found me and have a word with me and it was very nice to speak to them. 'For people who don't know, I got to the hotel last night and the hotel was overbooked. So it meant because we arrived late - we always arrive late because of the two late shows - our room had been resold to somebody else. 'Now we dealt with it, it was fine, we kept our humour. What can you do, you know what I mean, it's nobody's fault in that building, so me and Steve had a laugh and had a shared room and it was fine.' He went on: 'Now they asked me to take the video down, politely, but I'm not going to because I think it's important that people know that this is happening for one. 'What if it was a wedding or you had kids with you or a million other situations that were much more serious than mine. It's wrong, fundamentally it's wrong.' Manford stressed that the Bournemouth hotel's staff were not to blame for the situation and urged his followers to save their anger for the people at the top making the 'ridiculous policy'. MailOnline has contacted Village Hotels for comment. The Stockport-born funnyman, a father of six, is a popular figure in his local area, and regularly helps out with charity campaigns and community initiatives. He's been spending the past week encouraging youngsters in the area to take up the racket sport padel via his JM Padel Academy. Its goal is making the game accessible to students and potentially fostering future talent. Speaking in December during a padel event in Manchester in collaboration with the LTA, Jason said: 'If padel makes it into the Olympics, be it in 2032 or 2036, that person who plays in Team GB has not picked up a racket yet. They don't know the game exists. 'That is such an exciting thought. I feel like Terminator coming back in time to find John Connor! It could even be one of these kids here.'
