Dear Ben Gibbard,

First of all let me start of by saying that I used to be a fan of your music. I recall living in my flat in Cambridge and listening to your album We Have the Facts and We're Voting Yes and thinking how loverly it was. However Ben (may I call you Ben?), that was years ago, not quite a decade, but well years. These days I can no longer handle it. The tweeness of your voice, the non-classically-attractive attractiveness, the squishy lovable nature, all of it. I can not stand it. These days your voice drives me up the friggin wall.

These days one of your songs comes on the radio and I just want to throw something, I want to punch a wall, and I want to stomp up and down. Your voice has become worse than metal scraping metal. And the worst part is that it makes me feel guilty. I feel totally guilty for thinking of how much I want to punch something. Your voice makes me feel like I have kicked a puppy.

I know that you and your band are riding a great trajectory and I'm thrilled for you. Pleased indeed, it's nice to see folks do well. However, for the safety of all walls, puppies and pourous surfaces around me, can you please stop? If not, can you at least do something that makes you sound less whiny. For example, your work in the Postal Service is actually quite nice. And your older works don't make me so angry. There is something that you're doing now that you didn't do before. You are selling more records now, so maybe it's working out in your favor, but I beg of you, please stop. What if I actually do a kick a puppy one day? How will you feel then?

Thank you for your time and consideration.

xoxo,
-sabs.

PS: I once had a record label person tell me that Death Cab was "the new Coldplay." I thought you should know that Chris Martin makes me feel the same way. I guess this means the record label folks were right. Congratulations.