Truthfully and solipsistically, I wish you cared about me and the rest of the writers at Consequence of Sound so much that you’d want to hear our most personal thoughts on music, because you’d make our jobs way easier. I wish that I could just tell you that the new Atlas Sound album was “awesome, man. So good!” and that Lulu was “just sad, you know?” It’s what I tell my friends, and it’s probably what you tell your friends, too, and it’s the absolute pith and genesis of every word written on music — that first impulse you say to a confidant.
But until you SMS me or take me to a ball game or something, you’ll have to trust that we do our best to expand our personal thoughts into reviews that don’t read like a stopgap AIM conversation. Music is personal, and because it’s personal, it’s what makes a music critic so needed and so useless at the same time.
So, it’s with great excitement that we can offer a more personal insight into some of our writers and what makes music resonate for them. What better way to do that than by talking about where we listen to music, macro- and micro-geographically speaking. We’re freer than ever to listen to any album in the most obscure and remote places, and that freedom has the potential to unlock a cloistered theme on an album, distort and confound words into new meanings, or underscore and bolster the mood of an album, doubling its potency. Weather, context, time… these things play a part, but none are so diverse and indelible as Where You Were That One Time.
And if you want to circle up in this powwow we got going here, shout out in the comments where you heard an album that made it pop. You can just say it was “awesome, man,” and I’ll totally get where you’re coming from.
-Jeremy D. Larson