Cred: Folkert Gorter

With Contempt for “Stitches”

I hate it

Whenever I hear any part of “Stitches” by Shawn Mendes it awakens a primal instinct within me. Wait, is it a primal instinct to want to find the last surviving animal of an endangered species and run over it with a road grader? Well, whatever. It’s what I want to do when I hear this horrific collection of random noises thrown together for some no-talent ass-clown to yodel over.

I don’t listen to the radio often. Songs such as the above are the reason — plus, if I do happen to enjoy a particular song that is played on the radio, I will hear it on said radio 30 times in 5 minutes, forever ruining it.

With all due respect, Shawn Mendes — who I’m sure is a swell fellow — sounds like if Adam Levine and Justin Timberlake had a horrible, evil-spawnish, mutated-by-high-levels-of-radioactivity baby. And then that baby tried to sing songs.

I thoroughly dislike every single second of this song. But some parts of this soul-sucking, happiness-guillotining farce are worse than others. Such as:

  • I have a long-standing rule regarding handclaps: they can only improve whatever song employs them. Well, we all know rules have exceptions, and they tend to prove the rule. The handclaps in “Stitches” suck; there is no saving this song.
  • Mr. Mendes inexplicably adds extra letters to words for no reason. Oddly enough, the way he sings “touch” or “couldn’t” is the same way Selena Gomez sings “good” in her song “Good For You.” They add an “i” or a “y” and it is infuriating: good becomes goid; touch becomes touych. No! Bad singer! Bad!
  • Every musical instrument in this song has been done a disservice. They are utilized in a way that creates a sonic environment that is not only unwelcoming and astonishingly generic, but cataclysmic and Earth-imploding as well.

Finally, we come to the single most excruciating moment of the song, and possibly of existence:

And now that I’m without your kisses
I’ll be needing stitches

no no no no no no no no no no no no no

How old is this guy? KISSES?! WITHOUT YOUR KISSES?! This sounds like a 5 year old upset with his mommy: “Mommy. Mommy! I need your kisses! Please come give me kisses so I can go night-night.”

I hate it. I hate it so much. It is uncalled for, unnecessary, unimaginable. These words put together in this order constitute the worst lyrics in the history of music. This is worse than anything from Nickelback or Hinder or Kesha or Flo Rida.


The lack of kisses — god, I can barely stand to type “kisses,” DANGIT — from this person really cause you to do…what? Hurt yourself? Beat yourself up Fight Club style? Run into things? Get ahold of yourself, man. Have some self-respect, some dignity. Although, to be fair, there is no dignity to be had when you played a part in creating something as asinine and patently absurd as this song.

*Looks up stats on “Stitches,” sees the following: reached number one on pop charts, sold 250,000 copies, 1.3 million downloads*

Welp. What do I know? Get yours, kid.