The interviews were good. The music was good. The layering of sounds was good. Transitions worked. But something was missing. Maybe a narrative would have made the piece more... interesting. The answer to the question "Is rock dead?" was interesting. But I wish I had more of a background to the question. Why would it be dead? what is "taking" its place? A narrative would have guided me to make an answer for myself. After listening to this piece, I knew what other people thought, but no argument seemed sound enough to make me come to a conclusion of my own. A good radio piece does that. It makes you think. I didn't as much. "Is Rock Dead" is a fun piece to listen to, but it needs a little bit more to it. It needs to be contextualized.
I really enjoyed the names of bands listed intermittently throughout the piece. It put me in a time period, something I could relate to. All the sources seemed to be middle-aged men. I do not know this for sure, but hearing from students would have been interesting.

Alejandra, you are right. You are far older than twelve. The complexity of the sounds in this piece are so well-put together, like a baby-doll dress with all the trimmings. The overlapping sounds; her narration, the upbeat song and the running sewing machine in the background makes this piece so lighthearted and optimistic. By the end of this piece, I could feel her dreams rise out of the construction papers where they were laid down, on to a mannequin in Fashion Design school. The only missing stitch to this piece was the invisible elephant — Alejandra's mother. She plays such a large part in Alejandra's life. Her decisions ride on her mother teaching her sewing, her mother talking about fashion school. I wish I could hear her voice, as well. This piece, though short, is far more complex and interesting than a pad of brightly colored construction paper.

Death is a difficult topic to approach. There is so much sadness and mystery surrounding this enigma in which we simply disappear. So stumbling upon this radio piece, I was hopeful for an answer, a theory tackling the unknowns of death. Kacey Ward's piece comes from a very emotional and painful past. There is no doubt about that. Though the narration is a bit monotoned, the sadness from the deaths seep through. The piece would have been more powerful had there been more elements to the audio. A time, a place that could have been conveyed. The narration is very powerful, as is the mother's storytelling. There is a delicate balance for a piece circling around a sensitive issue. Too many sound effects or ambiance audio clips makes the piece cheap and comical. Too little, and neither the message nor the piece is as powerful. It's like a lemon cake. The taste is so delicate, with too much frosting and sprinkles, the lemon kick disappears. With nothing to complement it, the cake is a little weak. It's still tasty, but it could do with a little more something.

For many children, Santa Claus is a staple in their childhood, right next to naps and cheesy Goldfish crackers. The realization that this imaginary jolly character, is well, imaginary, is always a bit difficult. Asha Richardson tackled this topic in the most endearing and heartfelt way. As one would expect, little evidence is needed to back up the believe of Old Saint Nick for younger children. After all, "No one can be coming by and just giving me presents," therefore it is reason enough for this man to exist. The piece transitions to older kids, as the rationalize their way past the old tale and recount the effects disproving Santa Claus caused. Richardson does a good job working the audio clips into piece. Richardson is obviously a very good reporter. I feel like the intro could do with clips of Christmas carols, or even ripping of gift wrap to connect the listener to the Christmas theme. And maybe an analysis of this rationalization in the narration. The piece drops off towards the end and doesn't quite wrap up the idea of believing in Santa Claus. Living in the heart of the city, with a fire escape instead of a chimney, I never believed in Santa Claus or any of the folklore that went with him. It was interesting for me to hear all these different theories, but I needed more. Just like Joshua Raifman felt, there was a piece of a puzzle missing.

After listening to this piece, I appreciate, more than ever, my bed, my friends and the fact that I can eat my mother's cooking to my heart's content. Rebecca Barker captured the raw pain and cold, the plain reality of living on the streets as a teen. Barker's courage in tackling such a sensitive topic is admirable. Above all, I admire the fact that Barker's voice did not completely take over the piece. Her audio clips from the homeless teens is more powerful than anything an observer can say. The ambience was well-placed, as well. It took me to a city that I never knew existed in Alaska. This piece left me with a feeling of sadness, but I think Barker's greater message, the importance of others' kindness, was the most compelling.

Back in the day, I used to work at a bakery selling cupcakes. And let me tell you, the store reeked of the phony friendliness that Sophie addresses in this piece. I had a work personality: my voice was a good octave higher, I was quick to joke, laugh and compliment. I knew exactly what she was talking about the instant that the piece started. The intro really picks you up and places you right in the middle of the retail psychology. The contrast between Sophie's greeting and her sarcastic "come on" was the perfect example of the "phoniness" retail stores exude. The piece flowed well and didn't stray from her original point about the twisted psychology of retail. I really appreciated that there were several other voices from an expert to other retail workers. It wasn't just Sophie on a soapbox. There were other voices to back it up and stand behind her. The piece might be a little stronger if there was another teen up there with her on that nice little box, who isn't part of the retail business, to agree with her. Other than that, the piece flowed easily like smooth peanut butter, no chunky transitions. And it'll really make you think the next time you're inside a clothing store and one of the workers compliment you.

As a huge foodie, I am willing to try any food. Let every creature and plant be forewarned. After listening to this piece, I have been craving one of these famous Kogi Korean barbecue tacos. Thanks to the well-placed ambiance, I could really picture myself standing in line, salivating. Anna Ruth Castillo’s narrative shook me awake and out of the line, and instead of being curious about what was in the taco, she gave me a taste of the history and the future of the taco truck. Anna’s narrative didn’t dominate the piece, instead her clear voice and well placed transitions carried the piece from the very creation of the taco truck to the reason of its major success. And while the focus of the piece is on this innovative taco truck, Anna’s insightful commentary on Los Angeles’s culture is just as intriguing. Now I only have one problem: how am I going to get down to L.A. to get one of these tacos?