Music is more than just an expressive art form that I turn to for escape; it is as much a part of my survival as nourishment, rest and human interaction. Like many of you who are reading this right now, it plays an integral role in my life.

Throughout my daily commute and at the office I listen to my iPod, which boasts a rotating discography of 1,183 albums. I browse my favourite music blogs and websites, as well as download the most recent leaked albums when I should probably be working. During the evenings I play various selections from my shelves of vinyl while reading or preparing dinner (notice that I choose the word “preparing” as opposed to cooking — I can barely toast a strawberry Pop-Tart).

Since my days as a snot-encrusted toddler when my late-father used to play Thriller on family road trips, I have been entranced by stirring melodies, layered instrumentation, and poetic lyrics. That said, I have always been more of an appreciator or critic than having any legitimate talent in creating music. Ten years of banging away at the ivory keys amounted to nothing more than bragging rights for my parents at Korean church bake sales.

Despite my lack of talent, I decided to learn as much information about music as my brain could possibly store. This was particularly challenging during my teenage years because I spent most of my cerebral energy trying my best to not get a boner at the wrong time (ie. class presentations, school dances, climbing the rope in gym class).

By the time I turned 13 I had completely abandoned my previous obsession for hockey, and instead, devoted all my free time and energy to learning more about new bands and artists, the plethora of music genres, production techniques, the evolution of popular music, and anything else I could find within the pages of Spin and Rolling Stone magazine.

So it’s no wonder that I eventually went into music journalism where I found myself interviewing bands and writing album reviews, features and the occasional opinion-editorial piece for both online and print magazines. At first it was an Almost Famous-esque dream come true; the pay was minimal but I received more free CDs and concert tickets than I ever could have imagined. And picking the minds of some of my most respected bands and artists was payment enough.

But somewhere along the line I lost my zest for the whole game, particularly when it came to writing reviews and features. What’s more, reading music magazines and blogs were beginning to feel cumbersome and rarely did one interview with a band distinguish itself from the hundreds of others printed in other publications.

And with the Blogosphere (I promise that this will be the one and only time I use this term) becoming increasingly saturated with music blogs run by any college dropout with a MacBook and a DSL connection, I eventually lost my appetite for blogging about new music.

A few years past and I began to miss writing about music. I felt this nagging urge to get back into music writing, only approach it from a different angle. Inspired by Stylus magazine’s “Soulseeking” section and Nick Hornby’s Songbook, I eventually arrived at the idea for My Liner Notes.

I’m not going to spout some Jerry Maguire-like mission statement bullshit
about how My Liner Notes is some revolutionary new idea that will save music journalism. It’s not and it won’t.

But what it will do is offer a refreshing spin on the same tired format of the new music blog. That is, it won’t proclaim the band of the week to be the next Talking Heads, only to forget about them in a month, and it certainly won’t be Pitchfork-approved (that said, we have our fingers crossed for at least 6.2).

Just as the name suggests, My Liner Notes takes from the nostalgic art form of an LP’s liner notes, which can be found within the inner sleeves of dusty records and inserts of cassette tapes. The personal essays found on this blog will contain anecdotal and factual material which celebrate the visceral and emotional connection we all share with music.

These analytical, humourous, and often poignant opinion-editorials are always delivered with the kind of brutal honesty you can only expect from a music nerd. So whether you’re into Lady Gaga or Spoon’s Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga (and let’s be honest, those two artists probably share more of a common audience than we would like to believe), it is my hope that you will connect with something within these daily posts. Just remember, sometimes we all need to read between the notes.

Justin Lee, editor