There’s a lot of heart and soul that go into the reviews here on the site. And by “heart and soul,” I mean much more than just passion. You see, an algorithm can listen to a command or be given stats on your most-listened-to songs and come up with a full list of what it thinks you might like. And out of that list of 100, there are probably 3 songs on there that you actually enjoy, and so you save them to your playlist. And then the algorithm pats itself on the head and continues to do the exact same thing because it did its job. But here, at The Sagasu Review, there’s a layer that the robots can’t touch. It can try to mimic it but can never generate it as a source. And that layer is the heart and soul of a personal touch.
Firstly, the heart: the foundation of each and every review. It’s the reason we are listening to music in the first place. This is where it’s felt, where the emotions come from. It’s where we get reminded of people or places or special moments. With heart, connection is possible and reaches many. That’s what you gain by reading on The Sagasu Review. You’re not just here for new music; you are here to discover. Engage.
Marcus excels at writing from this point of view. It being his passion is an understatement; it’s in his blood, sweat, and mostly tears. And that is clear as day before you even read anything. Our welcome page is evidence of his dedication. I have watched him build this website from a couple of webpages with images of albums and walls of text to a site that now has its own color theme, seasonal features, animations, a search bar, and even a chat room. And all of that is congruent and evident in each of his reviews. He possesses this ability to bring you to a moment in time based on how he feels when listening, and you leave with a new understanding.
We joke sometimes, but it really is more than just “I like this song because it makes me feel happy” or “I don’t really vibe with this song, and it does nothing for me.” Each approach is met with a decent amount of optimism. And sometimes that resonates into a relatable connection or, unfortunately, a cold disconnection.
Whereas heart is the foundation of this house, soul is the rooms upon which it is built. This is where each writer gives their own personal touch. For my own writings, I pull a lot from my musical education and background in creating my own music. Music is to make us feel and inflict emotion. But I like to talk about how we feel that. I like to break apart a song by each track or instrument and how it contributes to these emotions. Almost like I’m dissecting the song to see what is making everything tick and what the artist wanted to be heard or felt. Most times, as I’m listening to an album, I’ll sit in front of my keyboard and play along. And in those moments, I become more attached to the song. Sometimes I develop more of an appreciation for the effort that goes into it as well. Catching things as simple as: Is it a simple chord progression with just four chords, or do they switch it up for the chorus? Or how did they manage to change the key so smoothly? And so on and so forth.
Music is a strong passion of mine, and I’m glad I’m able to talk about it in as much depth as I am able to. I’m even elated about all those who have approached me about reading my work. I feel that my personal touch and ear give people a newfound understanding of this art and help them learn to appreciate it from my point of view. Music is one thing in life that I just get and understand. It’s a talent that I am proud of and one that I have sharpened (and dulled) over the years. I have also been blessed to have been surrounded by musicians most of my life through my close friends, and we pushed and challenged each other throughout the years.
In other sources of media, I have always been more convinced by the words of an individual rather than the mass opinion. There have been plenty of times when I avoided a movie or a video game because of what I had read online, only to be talked into trying it by a friend or coworker. Their input turns out to be more impactful because, one, they know me and what I like, and two, I know the same of them. And 9 out of 10 times, I enjoy what I was originally going to pass off and ignore. I guess the point I’m trying to make is this: WE are the coworkers. We are the friends with similar tastes. If you see a review that is written by Marcus, you know that you’re going to go on a trip down memory lane, be enveloped in emotion, and indulge in thought-provoking sincerity. If you see one written by me, you will have a musician’s point of view and a bit of an analysis of the album and artist. And in both, you will have the opinions of people who love this music and have been listening to it for a lifetime.
when Chance asked me to write this feature i was initially unsure what he intended by it. what does it mean when the algorithm can’t “hear,” and how does the site benefit from that? he had told me that my reviews tend to focus on the emotional perspective of music, which took me a moment to think about. but i suppose he’s right... where Chance focuses on the technical aspects, i’m much more focused on how it makes me feel. to me, that is everything. that is music. that is what moves us as people, as humans. writing about that personal connection feels imperative for me and here at the site. The Sagasu Review is focused on writing about music from a personal angle. we give scores, yes, but it’s an opinion we hold as writers and as a site. it means the reader has all the room they want to find a different opinion from ours. as a wider truth, there is no de facto score for art. it’s here that the site operates in a realm that “the algorithm can’t hear.”
the algorithm is well known to determine what we experience in our daily lives. the videos, the music, the articles, etc., are all forms of content we are served by this all-encompassing and mysterious algorithm. in some ways, it may serve us well, sending us music we are highly likely to enjoy or by keeping our experiences consistent. unfortunately, this balancing of our consumption leaves a lot to be desired. we can be at the will of a wider algorithmic push for trends that homogenize everyone’s tastes. we can fall into a repeating or cyclical feed that enables only what we want over and over, not giving us the chance to experience something new, something daring. this flattening can prevent us from discovering. i think that some of the greatest moments in music listening are found in this mode of discovery.
The Sagasu Review uses scores and words to convey a message to its readers. “hey, check this out,” or “if you like what i like, this might not be for you,” or “this wasn’t for me, but it will be for you.” coming from me, that review is written from an emotional perspective. i think that opinion may work for some of you and not for others, certainly not for everyone. but it is an opinion, a recommendation that cannot be flattened out and averaged. there may be a month where some new genre or artist takes my attention by storm, and i can’t help but want to talk about them more. through these reviews, we can inform and recommend to our readers what is worth checking out.
my style, specifically, is built off the foundation of my long appreciation of art in general. experiencing any art is deeply subjective. both the creator and the receiver come from two completely different pasts to meet at one point. sometimes that meeting works, or it doesn’t. no matter the precision of the craft, even the best art cannot please everyone. what is important is that i, me personally, have an internal reaction. an opinion is formed based on my personality, my knowledge, and history. i just happen to be a very passionate and opinionated person, so sharing those thoughts comes easily to me. when i do, i base a lot of my reviews off this history of mine, my knowledge of the medium, and how it relates to my personality. that creates a very emotionally focused opinion. when i write about music i enjoy, i want to talk about how it made me feel, because that is how i connect with it.
where an algorithm weighs hard numbers in order to calculate what music should be, how it should fit into daily life, i think that approach ultimately leads to an unsatisfying end. music cannot and should not be strictly quantified. sure, it can help. we even use numbers here to crunch an album down to one identity, but the review, the words behind it, tell a much better story. the number is only there to help adjust the reader to the review. i believe that music is taken by each and every person on an emotional level, a feeling, but each person has their own way of connecting to it. The Sagasu Review leans on this. to me, that is a part of our history and connection with the medium that the algorithm can mimic, but it cannot “hear.”
