Well… what is a podcast?

I’ve googled the definition. I can tell you what it is, and I will. But first — let me take you back.

Early 2010s. Just before, just after. My first ever iPhone — a 4S, maybe a 4C. And I stumbled on Apple Podcasts.

It was probably one of the most profound discoveries I made in the creative fields. Because for the first time ever, for me at least, I had an in-depth insight into other people’s minds. Other people’s careers. It wasn’t curated in the most lavish, most aspirational way. It was real. It was honest. It wasn’t there for clickbait. It wasn’t there for rage bait. And it didn’t just have a bunch of — no offence — peasants. People who haven’t done anything in their life, speaking about things they had no intelligence, understanding, or experience to talk on.

It wasn’t like that back then.

I remember stumbling across a podcast called Accidental Creative. Even the first movement of audio in the intro was interesting, to say the least. Enlightening. Hearing creatives from the world of writing, art, design, architecture — hearing how their minds worked, how they progressed through their careers, the trials and tribulations they had to endure. Then another podcast called The Illusionist, hosted by a woman whose name I can’t quite place — I do apologise. But this podcast talked about the origin of words. Something so simple. We use words in everyday speech. We use words to communicate, to articulate ourselves, express ourselves, understand ourselves, understand each other. And I just found it fascinating.

Going to the gym, my audio import was a podcast. Lifting heavy weight and putting on something inspiring. Even a TED talk during a 5K on the treadmill. Do you understand the power I used to feel?

There was one more I still cannot name — I stumbled upon it and it was talking about audiobooks. A personal journal genre. A man and a woman just having a conversation. Two genuinely interesting individuals — one had been to prison, the other was quite high up in a corporate field. Simply having a conversation. But the way it was turning out was truly cultured. Truly.

The next day, I received some of the most traumatic news of my life. My grandma had passed. My mind switched off for a while. I needed to grieve. I digress — I’m not trying to trauma dump.

But that was podcasting back then.

There was no video. Maybe on a TED talk, but initially — no video. You had to sit down, take your time, and absorb. It was the same as sitting down and eating your food. You didn’t just shove food into your belly. You took your time. We all know the repercussions if you swallow your food whole. I doubt anyone likes those repercussions.

Consuming podcasts back then was so different to consuming them now.

And it was at that moment — from all of that consumption — that I wanted to do it. Because I had developed something. Reading so many books, you understand that articulation comes naturally with it. You learn cadence. You learn how the characters you’re reading about might say a thing — the pitch, the tone, the rhythm. Some of the strangest books I’ve ever read. Lo. Li. Ta. The staccato in that itself of one word. The legato — how some characters flow their words together. Eventually, after that much consumption of that kind of work, it becomes integral to yourself.

I always wanted to do podcasting.

But times changed. And I didn’t want to put something into a format that everybody else was doing — and quite frankly, ruining. A piece of work I truly loved, held dear. I didn’t want to jump on camera with a simple microphone, invite some friends for interview-style conversations, and start speaking just to get kicks and views. I wanted to develop something deep. I wanted to develop a core audience. A cult, so to speak. I wanted to interact with individuals that were interesting — that I found interesting, and who in turn found me interesting too.

So when I ask what is a podcast, it’s because we’ve made that change from one format to another. And even though inherently it doesn’t need to be video — it feels as if when you say to someone I’ve got a podcast, they imagine it to be video.

This won’t be that.

I’m not here to jump on camera and start rage-baiting people. I’m not going to misgender someone for content. I’m not going to build a temperamental audience who likes me one day and screams for my head the next. I have no interest in that.

When I ask what is a podcast, it’s because I don’t know how to put my form of audio into a box that people can comprehend. I don’t know how to put it in a pigeonhole that people can conceive.

But for the sake of definition — a podcast is an episodic series of digital audio files that a user can download or stream over the internet, to listen to at their convenience.

That’s what it is. That’s what it has become.

And I’m going to try my best to bring back what it used to be. Even if the definition fits better now, I guess. Even if times have changed.

This is Nikorow Labz.

I just don’t like the word podcast at the end of it.

But the handle is unique for a very specific reason — so you, my friend, can find me. And I, my friend, can find you.