Ed Sheeran is shit.
Do not believe the crowd. My Facebook feed is swamped with folk saying stuff like “I don’t want to say Ed Sheeran is shit because it isn’t up to me to tell others how to listen”. Damn straight. It AIN’T up to you to tell others what to like. You so scared of being misconstrued that you can’t even figure out what you like yourself, though? You so scared of being viewed as old or past-it or not down with the teen kids or (shudder, spit) a hipster that you can’t state your own opinions loud and clear, though? ED SHEERAN IS SHIT. He’s a beardy ginge comfort zone for people with low life experience and few expectations, a gorged smug regular money-making machine whose primary concern is not LURVE or FLOWAHS or… wait, why am I even discussing corporate business with you? Ed Sheeran is shit. You don’t need to be beautiful to say this, you don’t need to be lonely. You don’t need to be popular, you don’t need to be a geek. Ed Sheeran is shit. You don’t even need to listen to Ed Sheeran or his new album or the legion of fans to realise this, just read the apologetic commentary from those too afraid to state the fact, the apoplectic commentary from those who think they’re Making A Statement by coming out against him (yes, Campaign for a Return to Dad Rock, I’m looking at you), the fawning uncontrollable commentary from those whose idea of a varied and worldly musical taste means including a Radiohead album on their playlist of Coldplay, Damien Rice, Sam Smith, Adele and (shudder) Ed Sheeran. Look at the way he looks. Not so much a performance as a baby-adult entitlement. Ed Sheeran is shit. How many times do we need to say this before you start listening? Hey, why not start listening? Just cos you’ve only heard a handful of songs does not mean that no alternatives exist in the world. Ed Sheeran is shit. Do not be scared of the crowd. Has it not occurred to you that the crowd can be wrong sometimes? Ed Sheeran is shit. The very idea of listening to his music drives me to extremes of fury that I thought only Trump and Farage could instill in me these days. Ed Sheeran is shit. Scream it from the rooftops and the balustrades. He has no grace, no style, no panache, no star quality. Ed Sheeran is shit. He makes Mumford & Sons sound like a thriving farmer’s market. He makes Coldplay sound like Throbbing Gristle. He puts One Direction into perspective. He is the grey. He is the grey. He is the grey in the middle of grey. His emotion is not. Ed Sheeran is shit. Cancerous shit that spreads and grows and makes it so that the abnormal becomes the normal. Ed Sheeran is shit. He is one more marketing device to sell clothes and beer and department stores, and provide an outlet for… nothing. Shit. Less than nothing. Shit. Lifestyle accoutrement. Shit. An approximation of music that does not even attempt to capture the spark that can make music so special, so magical, so special. The boy next door who should have stayed inside. Cultural appropriation so half-assed you don’t even realise what’s going on (but it is, but it is).
I eat at MacDonalds, very occasionally. I drink coffee at Starbucks. Sometimes. I buy my groceries at Asda. Ed Sheeran is shit. And that shit is everywhere.
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