I Can’t Stop Listening To Ed Sheeran, Please Send Help

I Can't Stop Listening To Ed Sheeran, Please Send Help

Ed Sheeran is an enigma. Is he Irish? Australian? Chinese? Is he a hobbit from Middle Earth that somehow got his hands on a John Mayer album in 7th grade? The world may never know. He’s like if Jason Mraz had a baby with Jason Mraz.

I’ll (reluctantly) admit that he is endearing. He’s like that chubby high school friend that you kept in the friendzone even though he had an obvious crush on you. But then one day he wrote a poem for you where he rhymed “romance” with “come with me to the homecoming dance.” Your friendship was never the same.

His tattoos don’t match his body or personality. He looks like if Conor McGregor discovered the magic of chocolate cake, but he acts like a shy teenager who plays “Wonderwall” at the same coffeehouse open mic every Tuesday.

But to me, Ed comes off as an undercover fuckboy. He turns on the “sweet guy” routine to attract vaginal traffic. Yet another sly fuckboy rigging a crooked system. I know a stealthy fuckboy when I see one, I’m an expert. There’s a reason I teach a course called ‘Fuckboy 101’ at Stanford.

Maybe I’m being unfair. But for whatever reason, Ed just gets on my nerves. Something about him is obnoxious. He has the most punchable face on Earth, right behind Martin Shkreli and Caillou (I know he’s a fictional character but SOMEONE needs to punch that kid).

And that’s why I’m currently having an existential crisis. Because despite everything I just said, I CANNOT stop listening to this dude’s music. God dammit.

“Perfect” is on the radio nonstop, and as corny as it is, I LOVE it. No matter how many times that overplayed mushy single invades my eardrums, it tugs on my heartstrings every time like a hackneyed Vegas ventriloquist and I can’t get enough. That song is absolutely beautiful and it gives me goosebumps every time.

It was physically painful to admit that.

“Shape Of You” is a generic, factory-made pop hit that’s probably only extra popular because it’s sung by a non-threatening white guy, but it’s still my jam. I’m addicted to “Castle On The Hill” too. This annoying little ginger won’t leave my radio alone but for some reason I don’t mind?

But here’s the worst part. It’s just not the radio singles, it’s the deep cuts, too. His album is one of my favorites of the year and “Dive” gives me goosebumps. Have you ever heard “Dive”? No? Exactly. I’m the only person that listens to that song. And it’s phenomenal. I’ve been playing it on repeat. Same with some corny ass ballad called “Save Myself” and a bittersweet, heartbreaking tune titled “Happier.” Sad!

I saw that Ed Sheeran is featured on Eminem’s new album and I got super excited, which is easily the whitest thing I’ve ever done (other than thinking mayonnaise is spicy). I blast Ed Sheeran songs and get lost in the raw, relatable emotions that he conveys so effortlessly. I love his music. This can’t be natural.

I think Ed Sheeran is one of the most talented musicians working today. Someone please call 911.

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