One day in my late teens I spontaneously picked up a copy of Q Magazine from my local WH Smith. Informative, witty and covering a varied array of artists, it wasn’t long before I declared myself a loyal reader. Their excellent feature pieces brought me fascinating stories behind the music, while the extensive album reviews section sparked my initial interest in the art of reviewing. ‘‘Oh I don’t read reviews, I like to make up my own mind!’’ said many a hipster over the years. As if the consumption of such articles equals an internal need to be told what’s good and what’s not. Well, maybe that’s how it is for some people. But I just love the process of burying myself in music appreciation, then seeing how it relates to my own experience.