TORONTO – Creeping into his late twenties and starting to notice the small signs of inevitable decline in his body, local man Jason Santos no longer cares enough to pretend he doesn’t enjoy the discography of Coldplay.
“I get it, you’re not supposed to like Coldplay,” said Santos, who discovered his first grey hair earlier this year. “But I only have so much time on this earth, so I’m going to go ahead and listen to ‘Clocks’, okay?”
Although a younger version of Santos would publicly scorn the band’s poppy melodies and sentimental lyrics at any given opportunity, the wearier, crow’s-footed person he has become just wants to listen to ‘X&Y’ and remember what things used to be like, back when that album came out.
“Jason’s tastes have gotten so mainstream,” said friend Derek Harris, clinging to his scorn for Coldplay like a talisman of edginess, a powerless charm against the slowing, dulling effects of time. “I went over to his house the other day, and he was finding a brief moment of simple joy in a ballad about heartbreak. What a philistine.”
This is the happiest Santos has been since he gave up trying to like the Radiohead album ‘Kid A’.
