This album is like a surf trip with the boys. You hit the beach and catch a couple of good waves, but it flattens out pretty quick. Over the next couple of days you drive to a couple more spots, but you never really see any good waves. After a while you start getting frustrated at the lack of success, but you keep drinking every night because it’s what you are meant to do on a surf trip. And also one of your friends has a sheet of metal which he won’t stop flapping for some reason.

This album is like being a 90s kid who is madly in love with the popular girl at school. She is dating the captain of the football team and doesn’t know who you are, so you join the drama club as a means to express your emotions in a safe place.

This album takes you to the mid 90s, where a man nearing his 30th birthday has been through some heartbreak, and carries the emotional scars to prove it. He puts on a happy face to the outside world, while repressing his own sadness. Outwardly, he is functional; he goes to work, spends time with friends, and makes upbeat conversation. But at the end of the day, the man ends up sitting alone at home, drinking straight whiskey while replaying past choices, regrets, and missed chances over and over in his head.

This album gives soulful vibes of a soldier in a far off land, sitting in a dimly lit dive bar at 1am drowning himself in rye while thinking of ladies back home. Thoughts of his current girl and memories of former flames circle in his thoughts, while in the back of his mind he knows he’ll be on the front lines mere hours from now.

Like a sports car being cold-started on a frosty morning - this album hints at something great, but instead splutters its way along, struggling to find the right rhythm

This album starts out like a freshly brewed cup of fair trade Colombian brew coffee on a warm Sunday morning. It uplifts you to the point that when you realise you need to vacuum your house, you’ve got a wholesome energy so you don’t even mind vacuuming, in fact you dance and smile as you do it because everything feels right in the world. As the day winds down into a calming sunset, you at peace because you know you couldn’t have asked for a better Sunday.

This is like setting out for a long distance ride on your Harley Davidson. You’re excited at first but then you realise it’s a long weekend and you spend most of the time stuck in traffic. Also there is a bolt loose under your seat so you have to put up with jarring vibrations the whole way.

This album gives the vibe of a loner who committed an anti-social crime in his early twenties. After years incarcerated in solitary confinement, he has been released and is scrambling to get 25 years worth of thoughts down on paper. Levels out a bit later on in the album, but it is a bit shambolic for my liking.

This album is like the time you and your two best friends were all on family skiing trips to Wanaka at the same time. Your parents are all out to dinner together, and have left you at the motel. Your older sister gets you a box of beers to share and you are experiencing what it is like to let loose for the first time. A girl from a couple of rooms down the hall joins you, and after telling you how she’s into Radiohead, you end up hooking up and doing hand stuff for the first time while Master of Puppets plays in the background, etching this song into your memory forever. This is an awakening. These halcyon days are a turning point in your life, for all the right reasons

This album is like if you have been staying up too late at night during the week, so you are exhausted when the weekend rolls around. It is a nice Saturday afternoon, the sun is streaming through your french doors, and into your living room. You let the warmth on your face ease you into a lovely peaceful nap on your couch. Then in the middle of your slumber, your three year old son comes and punches you in the dick and starts crying. You manage doze off again, but twenty minutes later he gets into the pots and pans and makes a cacophony of noise. At this stage you are just too scared to go back to sleep.

This album is like drinking two glasses of red wine and then getting into your swimming pool on a still starry night. You lie on your back, and make no movements while looking up at the night sky, marvelling at the universe. Your garden is light up by the moonlight and the quiet warmth of the pool lighting envelops you as you drift slowly around the pool. You don’t want this moment to end.

This album is like a visit to an overseas whiskey bar where English isn’t the first language. The bar is catered to foreigners, including a band that performs in English. The bar is on a main road and the lighting is too bright in an effort to lure in passers by.

This album is like when your mum took you clothes shopping and let you choose your own shoes for the first time. You immediately wanted big bright Osiris skate shoes which was a huge step away from the old sneakers that mum used to get you. But she doesn't even understand, this is your new personality and you are proud to express yourself

This album gives the vibes of someone at a cocktail party, surrounded by dignitaries and socialites. He drums up a conversation with a railroad tycoon who asks what this young man has 'in the works'. After fudging his way through conversation using terms like 'amortization', 'EBITDA' and 'capital gains', he heads to the bar and orders a Manhattan cocktail. He politely sips his drink in solitude , internally pondering where Vermouth actually gets its unique flavour from, while surveying the room. He can't shake the feeling that at this particular point in time, he has made it. The sun sets behind the mountain range across the lake from the elevated condo which hosts the party. The man goes outside for a menthol cigarette and looks up at the sky, just in time to see a glimmer of a far off shooting star. Could it get better than this? Unlikely.

This album is like waking up on a warm Spring morning and feeling motivated to go out for a run. The mood that you’re in is sparking a new beginning towards better health and a better mindset, while also making you wanting to punch out the nearest government official.

This album is like a surf trip with the boys. You hit the beach and catch a couple of good waves, but it flattens out pretty quick. Over the next couple of days you drive to a couple more spots, but you never really see any good waves. After a while you start getting frustrated at the lack of success, but you keep drinking every night because it’s what you are meant to do on a surf trip. And also one of your friends has a sheet of metal which he won’t stop flapping for some reason.

This album gives the vibes of being an undercover detective chasing a no-good hispanic drug dealer through El Barrio. He runs into a nearby music club and you follow him, however you lose him as soon as you enter, as you are distracted by the bright colours, the loud noises, and the attractive ladies with raven-black hair and bright red lipstick. You can't help think that they are associates of your assailant, as they are working hard to keep you on the dance floor. But you can't drag yourself away, because you are lost in the music.

This album is like when you have managed to talk a girl who is out of your league into going out for a drink with you. You don’t have your own car yet, so you have to borrow your mum’s. Needing to make up for this bad start, you know you have to take this girl somewhere fashionable and cool, but it still has to be a safe pick - not too weird so as to make a potentially polarising statement about your personality

This is like having after works drinks in your office in the late 60s. Your straight-laced boss who is completely out of touch with the world asks what music is cool these days. Excitedly, you hope for him to put the Doors, the Rolling Stones or maybe even some Hendrix on, but that slow drawl of Monday, Monday reminds you that you are drinking in an office with acquaintances, not partying in the club with friends. Everyone makes polite conversation, and there is a hint of the party lifting as California Dreamin comes on. But that doesn’t last long. You’re not having a terrible time, but you are painfully aware that there are far more enjoyable parties going on down the road.

This album gives vibes of hearing a couple of mainstream hits and thinking 'this band could become a guilty pleasure'. So you illegally download the album and listen to it through headphones. The album starts strong as you bop through the singles that you know and love, but then you get through the singles and hear the rest of the album, which you don't enjoy. You delete the album from your iPod that night, and listen to some Black Sabbath instead.

This album is like when you’re five years old and your parents are having a party at home. Things start great because there is music playing, you’re allowed one soft drink, and several people are here and they seem excited to talk to you about your toy car collection. The night goes downhill quickly though, as your parents send you to bed early on in the party. You lie in bed and can hear the general murmur of a party, and it stops you from drifting off to a more enjoyable sleep.

This album is like the moment you sit out on your veranda after a big night out. As a devilish cocktail of beer, rum, negroni, a half eaten kebab and only-God-knows-what-else still courses through your veins, you take a moment to reflect on the evening. Your heart is still pumping at high octane from the activities of the evening, so you take a moment to sit under the night sky and contemplate the night that just played out. While relaxing and watching the clouds drift across the front of a full moon, flashes of the evening streak through your mind as you feel your body calming. “One more negroni” you think to yourself. Not needing more alcohol, you head to your kitchen and slap together a quickly made cocktail, before returning to the veranda. You don’t need the drink, but you have had such an amazing night and this calming time under the night sky is so peaceful, that you simply don’t know why you’d consider going to bed.

This album is like the third or fourth day of a massive bender. At this stage there is more alcohol in your veins than blood, and deep down you’re not too sure how you’re still functioning. Yet still you march forward. Sitting in a grimy lounge, surrounded by grimy accomplices, you power through the next box of beers slowly yet purposefully. There is a strong aroma of cigarettes from last night, and a matching taste at the back of your throat. There are less people in the room today than there were yesterday, but you know the missing ones will make their way back at some stage today. They can’t back out now. The couch you sit on is somehow crusty and damp at the same time. Occasionally you gat a euphoric rush of blood to the head, causing you to jump up and challenge the room to finish their drinks. You’re not sure if it is actually you doing that though, or if your soul has shifted to a new dimension. R.I.P. Ozzy

This album is like remembering the time you drove to work last week, to a job that you feel indifferent about. You woke on a cold morning and didn’t really want to get out of your cozy bed. Still half asleep, you knock back a black coffee to jolt yourself awake before brushing your teeth. Still bleary-eyed and drowsy, you set off. Nothing really unique or memorable happened on the drive, but you did get to work.

This album captures the vibe of you and your family having one last drink after your beloved grandfather’s funeral. After the funeral, friends and family had gathered at your uncle’s house and regaled each other with fond memories of a great man while having a few drinks. Gradually, guests depart. Before you know it, only the immediate family are left, sitting around a fireplace which houses a withering fire. While you all silently ponder whether or not to throw another log on, a quiet voice from the corner asks the room if anyone remembers the one time Grandpa raised his voice in anger - when one of his granddaughters slammed his grandson’s hand in a car door. Everyone smiles fondly as they finish their drinks. Realising that leaving the room means it is time to force themselves to move on with life, they agree to one last whiskey on the rocks.

This album is like the time you illegally downloaded a movie to watch with a girl you’ve just started dating. However when you start the movie you find it has been recorded on a phone camera in a cinema. In Uzbekistan. And someone in the row behind is watching another movie on their phone.

This album is like you’ve just ended a toxic relationship with a girl who was a bad influence, dragging you into a damaging lifestyle of excess. You’ve woken up feeling like a new man, you’re here to live clean, and you’re maintaining a positive outlook on the world. You’ll never forget where you’ve come from, but you’re more focussed on where you are going.

This album is like putting on your most weathered op-shop skinny jeans, a tight-fitting threadbare white t-shirt and your most rustic woollen sweater vest to go out to a log cabin in the forest to get away from the corporate drones for a weekend. The only problem is your fixed-gear bicycle isn’t suitable for the gravel road, so you have to hitchhike. Nobody wants to pick you up cos you have the look of a person who uses “natural” deodorant, so you are just standing around waiting on the side of the road on a hot afternoon for about 6 hours.

This album is like going on your first New Year’s trip with friends instead of family. Your sister doesn’t need her car for the holiday so she has been good enough to lend it to you. Now you and three friends are hurtling towards the Mount, Whangamata, Whitianga or wherever the hell you want. You’re flying down state highway 1 at 115km/h in a beat up old Honda civic, hurtling towards five days of surfing, drinking, experimenting with drugs and trying to chase girls for an evening of fun followed by absolutely no attempt to keep in contact afterwards. You’re not sure what you’re most excited about, as daydreams of all the aforementioned vices bounce around your head. No more low key days playing backyard cricket with the 13 year old neighbour at your family bach, it’s time to get wasted on Tui and run the beach as if it is your own debaucherous playground.

This album was like walking back to your car with your wife after eating dinner at a restaurant. Your car is in a parking building and you're not 100% which level you parked on. After about 10 minutes, you find your car, only to realise your wife has been talking to you non-stop along the way. You haven't really been listening to her conversation.

This album is like the first half of your birthday party when it’s mainly family members there. You’re having fun, but you’re keeping it in 3rd gear because your grandparents have come to celebrate and they are dressed impeccably. Not wanting to tarnish your name in front of your uncle or cousins, you only have three or four well-paced beers. You’re still keeping a good amount of energy, but you are also keeping a degree of decorum before your friends show up later and you really let loose.

This album is like the second half of your birthday party. You’ve been behaving up until now because your family were at the party and you have been nervous about overdoing it and making a scene, while also hoping that your friends would keep in bounds too. But now you’ve just said goodbye to your grandparents as your uncle has taken them home. You return inside, light up a cigarette and crack open a rum RTD cos it’s time for this party to kick it up a notch

This album is like coming home from your tour of duty as the war has ended. Earlier, everyone was singing and dancing in the streets, and now your and your wife have retired to a nearby quiet bar as the festivities have wound down. After enjoying a few rum cocktails as the other patrons leave, you find yourselves to be the last people in the bar. You slow dance on the dimly lit dance floor, all of a sudden oblivious to the world around you.

This album is like being a downtrodden young man, living in a grimy part of town. Your girlfriend is cheating on you and you hate your job. Even though you have minimal expendable income, the weather is nice outside so you’re gonna go for a walk. You’ll spend your last twenty dollars on a couple of bottles of cheap cider, and sit in the park finding beauty in this day, regardless of what else is going on.

This album is like walking into a church in a small town in middle America. The town has a small population, but come Sunday morning, everyone is here. The floorboards are dusty, and the pews creak when you sit down. The priest cuts the figure of a tired and beaten down man, weathered by life itself and all of its experiences. However when he speaks, you feel as if he is speaking directly to you, and everybody else in the congregation fades into oblivion. The charismatic priest gives a sermon that speaks of love, loss and menace. At the end of it, you walk away not sure if you have been blessed or hexed, but you have definitely been enthralled.

This album is like the rich girl at school, who has come back from summer holidays having developed a new edgy personality. She’s confidently getting in your face, challenging you about the wrongs of the world. She raises some pretty valid points, but at the same time her dad dropped her off in a Mercedes Benz before heading to his law firm where he is a named partner.

This album is like being a 90s kid who is madly in love with the popular girl at school. She is dating the captain of the football team and doesn’t know who you are, so you join the drama club as a means to express your emotions in a safe place.

This album is like sitting in your lounge with a couple of friends, having a deep conversation while drinking a rich bodied merlot and eating fine camembert cheese. It is a quiet night and it doesn't feel right to turn on the main light in the lounge, so instead you light a couple of candles and let their flickering glow, coupled with the moonlight coming in through the windows, provide the lighting.

This album is like skipping school with a couple of friends and roaming the streets doing whatever you want. Others are looking at you, wondering why you’re not at school. You’re walking with youthful confidence, displaying a rebellious vibe that scares people into leaving you be.

This album is like waking up from an anaesthetic after having a kidney removed. Your mind is cloudy and your mouth is dry. There’s no sign of a nurse and none of your family are by your side. In fact, you’re alone in this plain white room. You push the call button, desperate for a glass of water. Nobody comes. You begin to wonder if this is a nightmare.

This album is like the night you lost your virginity. You’ve gone in to the club with a clear and definite focus, you’re wearing your best clothes, using all your smoothest chat, and just throwing it all out there on the dance floor. And it works. This is an explosion of energy and emotion.

This album takes you to the mid 90s, where a man nearing his 30th birthday has been through some heartbreak, and carries the emotional scars to prove it. He puts on a happy face to the outside world, while repressing his own sadness. Outwardly, he is functional; he goes to work, spends time with friends, and makes upbeat conversation. But at the end of the day, the man ends up sitting alone at home, drinking straight whiskey while replaying past choices, regrets, and missed chances over and over in his head.

This album is like a man in his mid-twenties slowly coming to terms with the fact that life doesn’t always work out how the fairytales suggest it should. He’s an excited young go-getter, working in what he thought was a career defining job. However he has been in this role since he left uni at 22, and his career hasn’t really progressed as quickly as he envisioned. He’s been in and out of relationships, not really finding the right connection with anyone. He’s still filled with hope for life, however there is a thought in the back of his mind that maybe the challenges and difficulties of life are a lot larger than he was told during his younger years. He doesn’t want to give up on his enthusiasm, but he’s beginning to.

This album is like living a quiet, relaxed life in an idyllic suburban environment. Calmly going about your day-to-day activities, you are feeling an overwhelming sense of inner peace. Then the next day you pick up the newspaper and read about how a bunch of girls were psychologically tortured to the point of suicide and you feel guilty for feeling so relaxed.

This album is like being a 19 year old and going out for a big night on the town. You’re gonna get leery eyed early in the night and hit the Main Street at about 10. Not to go into the pubs though, cos the pubs are dead at 10. You’ll first pass the time by pushing some innocent bystanders, and the eating violence upon anyone who stands up to you. Later on you’ll go to a grungy basement bar playing upbeat music for you to space out on while you’re riding the highs of some random pills that you just took in a dirty toilet stall. Then off for a quick fight outside the kebab store before heading home to sleep on the couch.

This is like a guy in his 40s skateboarding from his office to the bus station. He’s obviously talented because he’s doing the odd grind and he can nose manual, but at the same time he just comes across as desperate to display his talent to an audience that have moved on from being impressed by kickflips. He frantically tries to show every trick he knows to the silent onlookers before the bus arrives, but it is more of a distraction than being anything impressive.

This album is like the start of a roller coaster, when your cart is getting hauled to the highest point, leading to the drop. You’re excited to get to the top and swiftly plummet into the actual ride, but this part is taking ages. Initially you’re filled with excitement, but as a couple of others on the ride with you start to groan impatiently, the thought does cross your mind that this is taking quite a long time.

This albums is like explaining string theory to somebody who doesn’t understand it. You’re giving fantastic examples to help explain the thinking behind the theory, and all of its subsequent implications, but the person you are talking to isn’t really keeping up.

This is like having your own unique personality but then going to school and finding out the things you like aren’t cool. So you stop collecting Warhammer 40k and start doing what the cool kids are doing, in order to fit in. You manage to keep up appearances and fit in with the popular crowd, but your heart isn’t really in it.

This album is like enjoying a loving, privileged upbringing. You decide that you want to be edgy, so you start lashing out at your parents, even though they are supportive of everything you do. You have literally nothing to complain about in life, but you complain anyway as if you have it tougher that everyone else. Nobody listens to your complaints, and your parents hate you.

This is like liking a girl who you think is way out of your league. You’re not sure how or why, but you blurt out that you’d like to take her out for a drink. To your surprise, she happily agrees. You go out and hit it off, agreeing to a second date. After a couple of dates, you spend the night at her house. You leave her apartment on a sunny Sunday morning, walking down a busy street feeling like you are floating. Your mum calls and you tell her you think you’ve found the one.

This album is like going out to a quiet cafe in London on a Sunday morning after having a massive Saturday night. You’re in that terrifying phase where you know you have some sins to wash away but you don’t yet know what. Your mind is still pretty scrambled and you need a calming environment to bring you back to earth.

This album is like getting ready to go to the roller rink with your friends. You’ve just emptied the better part of a can of hair spray into your hair, and you’re rocking your nicest pastel suit. The roof is down on your Volkswagen cabriolet, and you’re driving along the waterfront as the sun drops behind the horizon. Everyone knows it’s been about a month since you broke up with your last girlfriend, and while you’re still hurting from it, you think you’re ready to try and hook up with someone new.

This album is like enjoying a beer at the beach with friends while watching the sunset. Then your friend’s new fedora-wearing boyfriend sits down and is overly friendly. After some generic conversation during which he offers no insight whatsoever into any character traits, he pulls out a guitar. Everyone is awkwardly forced to end their conversations to hear this knob play. He proceeds to perform a medley of generic songs. The ambience of the moment is ruined. You don’t talk to that friend anymore.

This album is like falling in love with your babysitter. Needing money to help with uni costs, she’s taken a job as your babysitter while your parents go out to a fancy dinner party. She arrives in a beat up grey sedan, and you can hear the music blaring out of the speakers from a mile away. She’s wearing ripped baggy jeans, a white singlet with an unbuttoned flannel shirt over the top, and an unzipped hoodie. She’s friendly to your parents as they leave, and they tell her she can help herself to anything in the fridge. As mum and dad leave, she cracks a can of one of your father’s beers. Immediately she speaks to you as if you are an equal, even though she has experienced so much more than you have, and there is a significant age gap. She is a feminist, but a genuine one. Instead of simply rattling the sabre about how men are the downfall of society, she simply knows she is fucking awesome and expects to be treated as such. After explaining to you what uni is like, she tells you to get to bed. Never wanting this night to end, you kick up a fuss. She’s not here to argue, but she lets you have a sip of her third beer before sending you to get ready for bed.

This album gives the vibe of a gentleman in the twilight of his life looking at a photo album and remembering the love of his life - his now-deceased beloved wife. While he sips a brandy, he thinks of their first date at a night club, their romantic holidays driving to beach towns, and sitting on the porch of their moderate home while watching their children play. Picturing himself cuddled up on the outdoor two-seater with a blanket over their laps, he is filled with an inner warmth. He puts the album down, and smiles to himself, thinking back to his lively youth.

This album gives the vibe of a young professional having an out of body experience, watching himself go through the day to day routine of life. Waking up, riding the bus to work on on overcast day, listening to music on his discman, sitting in his office cubicle for 8 hours surrounded by other faceless men in grey suits. Everyone has generic job titles like "accounts", "marketing" and "sales", but nobody really knows what each other does for a job. In fact, the man isn't really sure what he himself does. After staring at a computer screen for another monotonous eight hours, he heads home to his 1.5 bedroom apartment, to sit on his catalogue-purchased furniture setting, and watch tv on his expensive flat screen TV. After a microwave dinner and a glass of moderately priced pinot noir, he goes to bed in his queen sized bed with new Egyptian cotton sheets. Left alone with his own thoughts, he is filled with an overwhelming sense that he is simply a small cog in a huge uncaring machine.

This gives the vibe of a low level group of criminals in east London. Using IT knowledge, they hack the security systems of clothing shops and steal fashionable clothes. Some of the clothes they resell, some of the clothes they steal for themselves. They are always the best dressed in the dance clubs on high street.

This album is like a young pastor that has moved to a town in a southern state. He’s befriending the locals through music, letting them play the guitar while he sings the lyrics. Times are tough in this town, and everybody is living hand to mouth. His music acts as a acknowledgement of the difficulties faced by the community, while also serving as a message of hope for those wishing for things to improve. He also sneaks a bit of religious sermon in there

This is like a guy in his early 40s taking his wife and two young children on a holiday to Fiji. There is a group of 20-somethings staying at the same resort, and they are getting stuck into the rum most days. The man’s children long to join in on the fun, but the wife doesn’t let them as they are still too young. The man smiles to himself at the whole situation. Instead of being angry at the rowdy group, he fondly remembers the times where he was getting drunk with his friends. He also smiles knowing the fun times that his children will experience in a few years time. As well as all of that, he is filled with a sense of accomplishment, knowing he has been through those times and come out the other side. He looks at his wife and his children, and takes a moment to appreciate everything that he has.

This is like going to a high-end European car dealership. You show up at dusk, and as the sun sets, the dealer mixes you a Manhattan and offers you a cigar. You don’t smoke, but you appreciate the cocktail. You sit in luxurious armchairs in his office, discussing what you’re looking for in a car. As you finish your drinks, he takes you to look at an impeccable sedan, fitted out with mahogany dash and rich Corinthian leather seats. You turn the engine on and a shiver crawls up your spine as the engine hums. The V8 purrs a quiet yet stern roar, telling you that it can keep calm and maintain decorum, but can also roar if needed. You don’t even need to take it for a test drive. This is the one.

This is like befriending a person “in the know” of underground dance halls and nightclubs that thrive in the time of prohibition. After going down a dark alley, and talking your way past the quiet giant that guards the door, you head into a nondescript hall, only to be met with an explosion of light, colour, sound and revelry. It is as if this small community have been keeping themselves under control for the working week, and are finally in a situation where they can celebrate all the joys of life. You normally don’t like dancing, but here you feel safe gyrating your hips and even flailing your shoulders.