Like a masked superhero, Lewis Capaldi is leading a double life. On record, and almost invariably in the number one spot in the charts, he’s the saddest man in pop, longing for someone who isn’t around anymore either through dumping or death. But on social media and on film, he’s a walking fart joke, telling Graham Norton that he writes songs for others under the pseudonym “Anita Jobby” and explaining to YouTube star Amelia Dimoldenberg that he has recently experienced “sharting”.
It must be exhausting. What if he mixes up the two personas, accidentally posting heartbroken poetry on Twitter and writing a hit song about his testicles?
