A Letter From Aladrian Goods
I cultivated this because I was looking for my place.
When I left my corporate job in 2024, I knew I wanted to create space for stories and people to feel less lonely. Future Is Color had become a sacred space for me, so when Erwin invited me to host the Listening Room I said yes. Nervous and uncertain, yet confident that I could hold a conversation about music with anyone, I thought of my first co-host. Honestly, the only right answer was my girl, Dauché. We put our minds together, set our intentions, and designed a conversation arc for one of our favorite albums, Channel Orange by Frank Ocean. I showed up a bit anxious—palms were sweaty, knees weak, arms were heavy—a bit curious, and overprepared on what to say but it was the energy in the room that really made the difference.
I thought the talking would be the thing. I quickly discovered it wasn't. It was the listening. What I experienced week after week, was something I hadn't planned for: Strangers arriving with their guards up, and leaving with their hearts open. Someone sharing what their mother used to play on Sunday mornings. Someone else talked about hearing an album the night they left home for the first time. Stories offered and a room full of people actually listening with no interruptions, no unsolicited advice, just full and generous attention.
Most of us have never experienced being listened to like that.
This journal is an extension of that room. It was made to give you the conditions for presence and permission to slow down, to feel, to hear what the music stirs in you and follow it somewhere true.
The albums were chosen with love. The prompts were written to hold you, not test you. You don't have to have the right answers here. You just have to listen. That's where everything begins.
Much love and thank you for listening!
Aladrian