It’s a good time to learn about Ed Sheeran’s music. The weather’s been gloomy lately, a little rain here, nothing but gray horizons there, bed-weather through and through. It's the perfect setting for this Englishman’s lush and soft, sometimes annoyingly-heartfelt brand of music.
Think James Blunt doing a rendition of Jason Mraz with a dash of I-want-to-be-the-summer-anthem-of-the-year beats. (listen to “U.N.I.”). It’s not particularly annoying but it’s prolly not something you’d listen to every single day.
Thankfully, this is exactly the brand of music your ladylove prefers. You get to hear it every day. And you find you’ve something in common with a girl like Sarah Lahbati, say.
You try to ignore those seemingly sincere tugs are your heart, at first. Take for instance “The A-Team,” The vocal-and-guitar song that opens the 16-track record. It quickly puts you in a forlorn-type of setting. How can this Englishman know exactly where it is to tug? But quickly you shake yourself of any possibly marketing trickery inserted in his achingly perfect-it-can’t-be-real type of vocals. And then the guitar lead that begins with a painful bend comes in at 1:22 part.
The vibe of the entire record is pretty much like this: fresh early morning depression. It goes up-tempo every now and then (notice the gradual transistion from “U.N.I.” to “Grade 8”) breaking the album’s monotony. But the album generally stay consistent, barely moving from the district of a quiet and discerning heartbreak. You cannot deny feeling the possible sincerity of it all, but it’s almost too scientifically-perfect heartfelt, it’s unfunny.
The above is the exact trail-of-thought that went the length of four Ed Sheeran songs. The opening chords of fifth track, “Wake Me Up” and how its drones sort of remind you Radiohead’s “Reckoner” wakes you up. But the thought stays alive for that one good less-than-four-minute song.
When track seven, “This” comes on, you’d be most thankful to have this record playing as you’re going home, and it’s almost sunset. Or you’re bringing her home, and it’s almost daybreak. It’s slow and tender and then he sings “this is the start of something beautiful” and it feels like you’re hugged warm.
When he begins to rap, you laugh good naturedly, relieved there is something particularly unnatural about it. “You need me, I don’t need you” is particularly awkward its calls for attention is deafening. You fastforward, quick. Please.
Unfortunately, the incredibly cheesy “Kiss Me” comes next. Of course, when dedicated to a girl, dedicatee becomes this handsome hero to an army of ladies. With opening lines that go “settle down with me, cover me up, cuddle me in,” how can you not? Imagine what seeds of promises you plant in their brains: Lines like “kiss me like you wane be loved” is soon followed by “this feels like falling in love.” Patay na.
But you have to give it to Sheeran. Despite the cheese his “Give me Love” is a strong contender of douchiest song of the year. We mean: “Maybe tonight I’ll call you, after my blood turns to alcohol.” Bilib ka rin e. How long did he rehearse that line; you’ve been doing so forever and it has yet to work for you!
If Ed Sheeran's cheesiness doesn't particularly annoy you and if your ladylove is happy with his music—look at her relish the spaces between Sheeran’s shreddedly sweet voice!— then why the hell deny her of it? If you’ve her by your side, if you’ve her hands in yours, if you’re given 5 minutes of silence and calm and peace, surely, it wouldn’t hurt losing yourself in his sometimes-cheesy melodies. As long as she’s happy, right? And really, is it really that bad? We don't think so.
But, if you find that she's not happy and you find yourself alone, again, well, at least you now know about Ed Sheeran. Go pop in his record now.