Ed Sheeran's 'Subtract' is cohesive in a boring way

Sheeran told Rolling Stone that in the wake of his best friend's sudden death, he felt like he was "drowning."

"Boat" sets the scene for his long, arduous search for oxygen.

I appreciate the vulnerability of Sheeran's lyrics, particularly knowing their tragic backstory. "They say that all scars will heal, but I know / Maybe I won't" is a stark, gut-wrenching depiction of grief.

Otherwise, however, I find Sheeran's central metaphor a bit too obvious. Waves have always been used to represent turbulence and boats have always been used to symbolize endurance. It's not terribly creative.

Buoyed by simple guitar strums and pretty vocals, "Boat" is exactly what you'd expect from Sheeran's album opener. According to Rolling Stone, he wrote the lyrics over "a piano-and-drums bed created by Dessner," but then took out most of the instrumentation and "reworked it as a raw guitar song."

I don't know what the original sounded like, but the final result is predictable. I have yet to make it to the end of this single without getting a little bored.

Dessner's production does a lot of heavy lifting in "Salt Water." It evokes the windswept melancholy of The National's Grammy-nominated album "Trouble Will Find Me" (particularly, fittingly, "I Should Live In Salt").

Sheeran is doing his best Matt Berninger impression here, but his voice is a bit too sweet and sinless to pull off the same depth of sorrow. (His pen is working hard, though. Standout lyric: "When it's time to go with one last breath that's in my lungs / I'll scream, 'It's all for love,' I'll scream, 'It's all for love.'")

"Eyes Closed" was the perfect choice for the album's lead single.

Although the shiny production (led by pop savant Max Martin) is fairly typical for top-40 radio, Sheeran's vocals are surprisingly emotive. He sounds quietly tortured, like he's forcing himself to sing through the pain, which aligns nicely with the scene he describes ("Just dancing with my eyes closed / 'Cause everywhere I look, I still see you").

Lyrically, "Eyes Closed" works brilliantly as a double entendre. If you didn't know Sheeran's friend had recently died, you'd probably assume he'd been through a harrowing breakup ("Delusion is here again / And I think you'll come home soon").

"Eyes Closed" is the rare kind of pop song that combines mass appeal with sincerity, capable of resonating with various levels of heartache.

As soon as Sheeran hit the first "how" in this song's chorus, my brain autocompleted the lyric with, "Take me into your loving arms / Kiss me under the light of a thousand stars."

The word in "Thinking Out Loud" is actually "now," and the melodies aren't exact matches, but they're similar enough to feel redundant. "Life Goes On" is a near-instant skip.

Sheeran was inspired to write "Dusty" while listening to Dusty Springfield's "Dusty in Memphis" on vinyl, a morning ritual with his daughter.

"I'm going through that time of turbulence and massive lows, but then waking up in the morning and having a joyous morning with a beautiful girl," he told Rolling Stone. "It's such a weird juxtaposition to go to bed crying and wake up smiling with your daughter."

The plinky production is bright and pleasant, complimenting the glimmers of hope in Sheeran's lyrics ("Take a breath and brace for the waves with you").

Unfortunately, the titular line ("I drop a needle on Dusty") is too literal (and repeated too often) to be fun for the average listener. Context can make a pop song more interesting or impactful, but a pop song shouldn't need context to be enjoyable.

I'm not sure how he managed to Sheeran-ify this gorgeous Dessner instrumental, but it strips the song of any freshness it could've had.

I would expect a title like "End of Youth" to elicit maturity and growth, but instead, it feels regressive. Sheeran hits all the same marks he hit in 2014 — and even seems to acknowledge this pattern in the second verse ("Disengaged to create, try to reinvent the wheel / No one knows what they want, so I just give you what I feel").

Also, not for nothing, Sheeran was already a husband and a father when he wrote this song. I think it's safe to say his youth had already ended.

"Colourblind" is my least favorite track so far, both sonically and lyrically.

The first verse and pre-chorus are dedicated to the colors of Sheeran's "kaleidoscope love," an ever-changing mixture of hues and shades.

But he erases the beauty of that sentiment in the chorus: "Maybе we'll just paint the night colorblind." Huh? Do all the colors "make life interesting" or not?

The whole song is a mess of a metaphor that's trying too hard to be profound. "I keep falling deeper in dark blue / Brighter than white, rainbows exploding" is completely nonsensical as a couplet, and that's just one example.

I'm relieved to finally get a bit of energy and movement, even if it took seven whole tracks for Sheeran to pick up the tempo.

I love the '90s rock vibe that Dessner conjured for "Curtains," but lyrically, Sheeran remains in stale territory. It feels like every song on this album has a literal title that's used as a predictable metaphor in the chorus. ("Can you pull the curtains? Let me see the sunshine;" "I'm free in salt water, embrace the deep and leave everything;" "The waves won't break my boat").

Everything about "Borderline" is Bon Iver cosplay, from the pine-tree piano line and orchestral strings to Sheeran's falsetto and ghostly harmonies.

I don't even know if the lyrics are good because all I can hear is Sheeran singing through a Justin Vernon mask.

"Spark" is anchored by a very comforting chord progression.

It's one of the most Dessner-forward tracks on the album and for that reason, I enjoy it very much, even though Sheeran's heavy-handed metaphor fixation has returned ("We'll build a fire and torch our old lives / And hope the spark survives").

"Vega" is almost certainly about Sheeran's wife, who was diagnosed with a tumor when she was six months pregnant with the couple's second child ("One door closes then one opens, gotta keep the focus / If we believe, then she'll get better").

The verses are fairly straightforward and rooted in real life. Sheeran sings about clouds and rain, trying to stay strong in the face of illness, sitting "cross-legged on the carpet" while a storm brews outside. He paints a loving vignette of family life.

But the chorus takes a strange detour into a clumsy celestial metaphor: "Light up the night, we were made to be stars / But it burns like hell to be Vega."

According to a cursory Google search, Vega is the brightest star in the Lyra constellation. Sheeran's eldest daughter is named Lyra. So yeah, I guess I understand what he's trying to say (the most special people experience the most pain?) but it's still a weird way to say it.

Sheeran told Brian Hiatt that he was determined not to copy Swift's work with Dessner, but isn't naming a love song after a specific kind of tree a little familiar?

This is an Ed Sheeran song. That's all I've got. (Maybe I'm just getting album burnout, but for an album with just 14 tracks, that isn't a good sign.)

I have reiterated many times throughout our first-listen series that it's hard to nail an album closer, especially if it's a ballad.

But "The Hills of Aberfeldy" doesn't sound like anything else on "Subtract," so it provides a welcome breath of fresh air.

Sure, "The Hills of Aberfeldy" still sounds like quintessential Sheeran — but it has a warm, vintage feel that's quite endearing, like something you'd hear during an open-mic night in your local pub.

I don't know why anyone thought that suing Sheeran for plagiarism was a good idea since he's incapable of making a song that sounds like anything but an Ed Sheeran Song.

Of course, that's great news if you love Sheeran, and there's definitely something commendable about consistency.

But it doesn't leave much room for curiosity, wonder, and exploration.

Before "Subtract," I had never listened to one of Sheeran's albums front to back. And yet, by the time I finished track three, I had a pretty clear idea of how the next 40ish minutes of my life would sound.

Sure enough, my expectations were met. I was treated to an Ed Sheeran Album — nothing more, nothing less.

For the record, I neither like nor dislike Sheeran. I am not one of his many mindless haters who, in his words, treat him as "the punchline to what bad pop music is." But I'm also not someone who reaches for his music in my everyday life. I enjoy hits like "The A Team" and "Shape Of You," but I've never felt connected to them.

Still, I had high hopes for "Subtract." I love Dessner's work as a producer and I love sad lyrics. I got genuinely choked up reading Sheeran's Rolling Stone profile, his first in-depth interview in five years, in which he speaks candidly about the loss and trauma he's been forced to endure.

I never find myself doubting Sheeran's authenticity. Throughout "Subtract," it's clear that he's writing from the heart.

But even in moments when his pen is sharpest — when he's filled with regret in "Salt Water," or dreading news from the doctor in "Sycamore" — I sense a disconnect. Despite all the aforementioned loss and trauma, "Subtract" is full of smooth textures and buffed edges. It's predictable. Some lyrics are objectively heartbreaking, but I don't feel heartbroken.

My body doesn't absorb Sheeran's music in the way I expect from sensitive, eloquent pop stars. Instead, I feel it skim over my skin like a light breeze.

I can't put my finger on the cause of this disconnect, but I suspect it has something to do with Sheeran's unmistakable, unchanging voice. He is technically skilled in this area, boasting an impressive range. But like Pavlov's dog, I've been trained to expect cheesy balladry when I hear his signature lilt, so that's what I hear — even when the words aren't cheesy at all.

At the end of the day, Sheeran is a successful, talented, top-40 musician who wants very much to be an album artist, and yet, he is not. And that's OK!

Worth listening to:

"Eyes Closed"

"Salt Water"

"Curtains"

"Spark"

"The Hills of Aberfeldy"

Background music:

"Boat"

"Dusty"

"Borderline"

"Vega"

"Sycamore"

Press skip:

"Life Goes On"

"End of Youth"

"Colourblind"

"No Strings"

*Final album score based on songs per category (1 point for "Worth listening to," .5 for "Background music," .5 for "Split decision," 0 for "Press skip").