Someone once complained to me that the Postal Service sounds like ‘video game music’. My response was essentially “You don’t get it because you’re a stupid philistine” but he actually did have a point. There are definitely a lot of chirpy bleep-bleep-bloops that call to mind the simplistic soundtracks old Gameboy games came programmed with. Those little tunes were irritating as fuck and I always played with the sound off. So I do get where my gorilla friend was coming from when he didn’t want me to blast Postal Service songs in the workplace. Yet if the Postal Service album was a video game soundtrack it would be the kind of game where you earn points by writing in your dream diary, drinking alone at a brew pub, and awkwardly failing to strike up a meaningful conversation with the object of your affections. You move up a misery level every time they tell you they only like you as a friend; or they tell you you’re getting clingy and you need to give them some space; or they very earnestly tell you – ‘for your own good’ – that you have no conception of your own identity and your life revolves to an unhealthy degree around pursuing people who are out of your league in the hopes that their coolness will somehow rub off on you. You win the game when they finally get drunk and desperate enough to have sex with you but it’s weird and awkward and they don’t even give good head, and you go home and you cry and you want to die. Or, you could turn it around and play as ‘the girl’ and earn points for shooting down marauding armies of weepy emo schmucks who think that getting in your pants is going to ‘complete’ them somehow. So, it would basically be you living your dating life, listening to the Postal Service, pretending you life is a video game to make yourself feel less trivial.