Subtract is the fifth and, according to British singer-songwriter Ed Sheeran, the final installment in his series of albums titled mathematical symbols, which began with + in 2011. In the context of his career, his most recent release is appropriately titled: When Sheeran first came to prominence in the early 2010s, he was praised for his story-centric songwriting, which was given dramatic weight by his lilting voice and interpretative skill. As his star grew, his music began to carry more baggage—radio-ready touches that helped him climb the charts but made his songs feel both inescapable and increasingly hollow.
Sheeran’s lyricism takes center stage on Subtract, bolstered by finely detailed music that complements his crystalline lyrics and close-confident delivery. While the album’s lead single, the skeletal meditation on grief “Eyes Closed,” features co-writing and production credits from top-tier pop architects Fred Again., Max Martin, and Shellback, the majority of the album is the result of collaborations between Sheeran and Aaron Dessner, the indie rock multi-instrumentalist and member of The National whose work on Taylor Swift’s Folklore and Evermore catapulted him to pop’s A-list.
In a recent Rolling Stone profile, Sheeran discussed how much of Subtract was inspired by Dessner sending him music that was only missing a topline melody and lyrics. “It’s just complete brain-to-page,” Sheeran said of the newly unlocked writing process. Subtract’s music is thoughtfully arranged, providing a solid foundation for Sheeran’s reflections on a horrific series of events—the death of his friend Jamal Edwards, the discovery of a tumor in his then-pregnant wife, a plagiarism lawsuit, and a descent into depression—all of which occurred at seemingly the same time.
Sheeran’s only way out was to write songs, as evidenced by the exposed nerve feel that runs throughout the album. In the verses of “End of Youth,” which deals with the moment “when the pain starts taking over,” thoughts tumble out over spectral strings, while the unending ache on “Borderline” is expressed both in the lyrics (“Tears never arrive/ these ducts are dry”) and Sheeran’s use of his upper register’s highest boundaries. There are lighter moments: “Dusty” is a sun-dappled synthpop track in which Sheeran and his loved ones find solace in the music of fellow Brit Dusty Springfield; the driving “Curtains” turns a game of hide and seek into a metaphor for dragging oneself out of life’s muck.
Subtract (and, by extension, Sheeran’s mathematical-symbol era) comes to a close with the reimagined Celtic folk song “The Hills of Aberfeldy.” It was written by Sheeran more than ten years ago when he was planning his multi-album project. Its stripped-down arrangement and Sheeran’s full-throated vocals draw a clear line between centuries-old music and the pop that’s propelled him to the world’s biggest stages, while its lyrics contain a glimmer of hope for love even as the fear of dashed romantic hope looms. It may be a decade-old song, but it perfectly complements Subtract and brings Sheeran full circle in this chapter of his pop career.
