Back in the day, before I became a slave to myspace and buying music off the internet, I didn't care what anyone thought about the bands I loved. I remember listening to Death Cab For Cutie's The Photo Album and not thinking of words like "unfortunately awkward bridge" or "full, grammatically correct sentences". All I cared was that 20th Century Towers was the most heartbreaking song I had ever heard. But then for some reason I wanted to know what other people thought of the songs I found beautiful and moving: I wanted to discuss them with others, and wanted them to point me on to better and more beautiful things. So I did what most nineteen year old boys do when they want to learn an answer to something. I googled it.

A couple of scrolls and clicks later I found a website called Pitchfork Media's review of my life-changing classic. They gave it an uncompromising 7.1 - not a bad score by any means (read that devastating review of the Weezer album), but pretty mediocore for a band I loved, nay idolised. They were clearly wrong! They clearly missed the point! Had they no soul!? Didn't the slightly melancholy lyrics eat away at their souls, and make them question their place in the universe!? It definitely took me a little while to get over that one. I dismissed them as being pretentious jerks who wouldn't know good music if it bit them on their clearly swollen heads. They didn't even have a review for Seraphs Coal's Don't Mind If I Don't, an album seminal in the annals of Adelaide punk. Who did they think they were fooling!? Not me, damnit.

Some time in the next five years, something changes. Fast forward to the present day.

I read the news headlines on Pitchfork, making tedious but reassuring notes about which indy bands are going to be playing which festivals in the US. I won't actually go to them: the notes are so I can tell all my friends what we are missing out on. I also start giving out album reviews, and adding decimal places to the scores out of ten. This really helps me pinpoint which records are superior to other records. I love Franz Ferdinand's new album, but find The Bravery strangely soulless and textbook. I believe Sufjan can do no wrong, and Danielson is only redeemed by his later efforts as a songwriter.

I've also decided to start my own band, and we'll be an amalgamation of several already alternative genres. We'll spell our name in all a foreign language (native Australian is slightly too hard to pronounce, but British slang is too common - better go for French), and you can only ever type it in lowercase. We'll denounce myspace because it's evil, although secretly we'll put one up and pretend it's not run by the band. Then we'll do a tour with Modest Mouse, and release a second album that's just as good - if not better - than the first. We'll develop as songwriters, pushing the envelope of alt-folk and acoustic-core. We'll have fifteen people onstage at any given moment, and only wear navy blue on Thursdays.

Oh God, what happened to me?!