#magicallypernicious

[songofmysnark]

“Perfect,” by Ed Sheeran

The least perfect song in the world.  This shit is fucking awful.  It’s bad enough that I have found it necessary to present evidence that Ed Sheeran may have been put under the spell of a powerful sea witch.

Let’s dive right into this unholy mess of unexamined emotional hellscape.  Buckle up, kids.

I found a love for me Darling just dive right in And follow my lead

Why are you diving, Ed?  Stop mixing metaphors, are you ballroom dancing underwater?  Are you waltzing through a swamp?  Why are you wearing scuba gear to this tango meetup?  ED WHAT IS GOING ON? I am worried.

But before we clarify what’s going on, who are you speaking to?  “I found a love for me” is not something you say to your smoochiepie, but then you’re addressing “Darling” and instructing her to dive into your shitty mixed metaphors.  Are you singing to us, the audience, or your love that you found?  Are you telling a story or serenading your lady friend?  Ed, this kind of shit is why you are so goddamn easy to mock.

Well I found a girl beautiful and sweet I never knew you were the someone waiting for me 'Cause we were just kids when we fell in love Not knowing what it was I will not give you up this time

I’m coming up to speed here, my befreckled carrot chunk.  Let me translate: you had a crush on this chick, she didn’t like you much, and then you got rich and she was like “welp, gotta survive somehow” and is now swallowing her pride and marrying a guy with a giant jungle cat tattoo on his chest because it means she won’t have to work anymore?  Cool, glad I’m reading between the lines.  Gold digger, redheaded nugget, it’s a warm-toned match made in heaven.  

But here is where Ed Sheeran starts to do the thing that sends me into a feminist rage spiral:  nothing about this woman is at all about her as an individual, but it is definitely about him as an individual.  It’s one of those “Nice Guy (TM)” things that I hate: the dude here gets to have autonomy and his own story is central to the narrative, while simultaneously, his comfort, pleasure, and gaze are prioritized.  

He found a girl?  No, he did not.  She existed all along, he didn’t do a goddamn thing.  People are not hidden fucking treasures, Ed.

She was the someone waiting for him?  No, she was doing her thing, Ed.  And then you came along (again).  You really think she was waiting for you any more than you were waiting for her?  I mean, you weren’t, you totally sing songs about boinking other ladies.  You both just met at a convenient time and were like “I guess you’ll do.”  Stop making this sound like she actually held out for you.  She didn’t.

You were just kids when you fell in love?  AS OPPOSED TO WHEN, ED?  YOU WERE BORN IN 1991.  YOU HAD TO GROW INTO THE HARRY POTTER BOOKS, PAL.  And we know nothing about when this chick fell in love with you.  Hindsight is 2020, my sweet little baby child crooner.

Let me put on my therapist hat, my little tattooed gnome.  When/why did you “give it up?”  I’m curious.  Tell us more about that.  No?  Not wanting to talk about how you likely acted like a bit of an ass to this woman?  Okay, let’s keep going.

Can we talk about this one thing, though?  Your phrasing is odd.  Like, your syntax is fucking horrid, but points to your own self-centered brand of narcissism that has become your trademark.  You are the one dancing in the dark, and you have her between your arms while dancing.  Not only is this just weird, because the subject/object relationship separates you both, but you’re not even saying that you’re dancing together.  You’re dancing, and she’s an accessory placed between your arms.  It also sort of sounds like you’re in the 8th grade and dancing like a mummy -- you know, the way kids sort of hold their arms out and sway during slow songs?  If they didn’t have each other, they would look like mummies.  Are you mummy-dancing with your love, Ed?  Or are you just writing lyrics that center around you as the primary figure and place your partner as a peripheral accessory object that is described in terms of her physical relationship to your body parts?  Isn’t the point of dancing like that about togetherness, like “we were dancing together” or even using a transitive verb to at least link the activity between you two.  Nope, dancing in the dark, and she was an accessory.  Like a flashlight or a bolo tie.

I know, I know.  I’m so pedantic.  And you’re singing about your experience, from your point of view.  You’re right -- and I’m not saying you shouldn’t think or sing or say this crap.  You can do all those things.  And I can judge the living shit out of you for it, because you come off as a selfish, childish, manbaby.

Moving right along...

But darling, just kiss me slow, your heart is all I own And in your eyes you're holding mine

Ed, you’ve got to cool it with the weird possessiveness shit.  But this has given me a great mental picture of her eyes growing tiny hands and ripping Ed’s eyes out of his head while they (the eyes growing the hands) scream “MIIIIINE.”  Oh Ed, the beautiful images you paint with your lyrics.  Never change.

Baby, I'm dancing in the dark with you between my arms Barefoot on the grass, listening to our favorite song When you said you looked a mess, I whispered underneath my breath But you heard it, darling, you look perfect tonight

See, this shit?  This is gold.  This is why I have a tumblr dedicated almost entirely to the shameful pile of lyrical poop that is Ed Sheeran’s discography.  Let’s break down everything that’s wrong with this fucking terrible refrain that we will be subjected to repeatedly, over and over, on our traffic-laden commute thanks to Top 40 radio’s obsession with Ginny Weasley’s favorite saccharine leprechaun. #magicallypernicious #unluckycharms

She said she looked like shit because a. she thought so or b. she’s thirsty AF.  And you’re like “you look perfect tonight.”  I mean, that’s sweet, but also, WTF were you doing barefoot in grass with your favorite song playing?  Were you camping?  Was this a date?  Did you tell her that this OBVIOUSLY PREVIOUSLY ORCHESTRATED EVENT was happening?  Did you give her a chance to, like, make sure she put her anti-humidity spray in her hair before you took her out to some swampy field and put on whatever her favorite song is?  What is her favorite song, Ed?  Do you sing it?  I didn’t think so.  NEXT VERSE!

Well I found a woman, stronger than anyone I know She shares my dreams, I hope that someday I'll share her home I found a love, to carry more than just my secrets To carry love, to carry children of our own

I swear to fuck, Sheeran.  Stop.

Every goddamn time I hear this verse, I just cringe.  My whole entire body just shrinks up into a massive, painful, muscle-spasming cringe.  Part of it is that melodramatic way you sing it, really going to town on the microphone when you sing about “carrying children,” that makes me hope for the cleansing tide of early-onset alzheimers to wash away the memory of ever hearing this goddamn line being belted through the speakers of my Toyota.

And I get it, you were like “hey I’m a lyrical genius, did you know that the word ‘carry’ can be used as the verb when describing someone bearing and/or transporting a physical or emotional load AND being pregnant with a baby?  Cool, man, you figured that out and had her carry secrets AND your future spawn, because you are that ~*deep*~ to be like “I can use the same verb to describe keeping secrets and popping out some progeny!”  

Do you only value her strength because it’s useful to you???  Way to be.  This is why we still need feminism.  You are framing this all about what this person can do for you.  She can carry your secrets for you!  She can have your baby for you!  She can be strong for you! As previously established, you are disorganized and have a hard time delegating, but seriously, nobody needs to bear this fucking burden.  You’re just like “Fuck her own stuff, fuck how strong she’s needed to be while I behaved badly toward her!” (Reminder: you apparently gave it up and left her for a bit; see verse 1 because you know I keep my receipts).  

And really? To carry MORE than just your secrets?  Like, that’s already a fucking load to bear and now you’re going to weigh your ladyfriend down like a pack mule with the rest of your fucking baggage?  Way to be a gentleman.  Grow a pair of gingernuts and figure your shit out, son.

By the way, what secrets are you keeping?  Like, big secrets?  Like “Dick Cheney would waterboard you to get at them” secrets?  Or just, like, whatever you did at music camp when you were 11 and played a little too much truth or dare?  You know what, forget I asked, the idea of combining enhanced interrogation with Ed Sheeran’s pre-pubescent truth-or-dare behavior is making me want to bleach my mind’s eye.  Carry on, my wayward son.

What dreams of yours does she share, Ed?  I know it’s a figure of speech, but last night I had a dream that in the middle of an international cuisine tasting conference, I was tasked with butchering an octopus in a college dorm room and ended up having sex with Ursula the Sea Witch, so I wouldn’t wish my dreams on anyone.

And sharing her home, Ed? Is this your nod to feminism, like oh, despite singing about her as an accessory, I’m going to acknowledge her earning potential and, in this version of the narrative, make sure you know it’s her home.  The wage gap doesn’t exist, she’ll be the one to get us a home, I’m progressive! Or are you implying that she’ll be a homemaker?  Either way, this is not a good look, Ed.

We are still kids, but we're so in love Fighting against all odds

How the fuck don’t you realize that I keep my goddamn receipts?  You referenced how you were kids back then (see verse 1 above and my joke about being born in 1991, buddy) and now you’re like “WE’RE STILL CRAZY KIDS!”  Sweetie, buddy, pal, my guy, the lack of continuity here is astounding, I mean how the fuck are you making so much goddamn money off of these truly awful songs?  

I know we'll be alright this time Darling, just hold my hand Be my girl, I'll be your man

Nabokov already wrote this novel.  You know, that whole “light of my life, fire of my loins, I’m dead when she leaves me” book?  Yes?  No?  Okay, look it up later.  

I see my future in your eyes.

Plot Twist:  Ed Sheeran is in love with Lolita, but Lolita is an immortal and ageless sea witch.  IS THIS WHY HE WAS DIVING RIGHT IN?  

It doesn’t matter if her name takes a trip of three steps down the tongue if she steals your voice.  How’s that for lyricism?

I have faith in what I see Now I know I have met an angel in person And she looks perfect I don't deserve this

Okay, I was wrong.  This entire song is about his complicated relationship with a sea witch who has cast a spell.  If you sing it in a minor key, this shit is really ominous.  I have faith in the truth that I see now before me, she has revealed her true identity and it is terrible, please make it stop, I see the horrors for what they are now!  It’s the angel of death, I have seen her in person and I don’t deserve this torture!  She is perfect in her wrath and I must pray now and praise her while recanting my douchebaggery, I am now crying for help in this field as my love has revealed herself as a mirror into my own terror, and I am but a shapeless narrator without an audience, screaming into the void!  Is this why she holds your eyes in hers?  Is this why she shares your dreams, because she can see inside of your soul and reflect your own desires back at you until you’re blinded and crazed by your own self-centered bullshit?  Is the sea witch using the Mirror of Erised as a shield to protect herself from your bullshit?  

We’re worried, Ed.  

You look perfect tonight

For fuck’s sake, Ed.