VOX: The Voice of Our Generation

Every once in a while you come across the voice of an angel, a sound so heartfelt and riveting that you’re tempted to stop and bask in its presence. In Seth’s case, not so much but the modesty he volunteers would never suggest otherwise: “I can’t sing or anything, “he laughs, immediately pasting his own disclaimer, “but I love music. I am my own iPod.” We sit across from one another on cozy (perhaps too cozy) couches in the infamous VOX purple room, and I laugh while managing to still capture the basics over the abnormal loud humming of the computer equipment nest to me, which if the circumstances were any different would have washed out the interview completely but instead was intimidated into dissipating into the peanut gallery.

Seth Langer has a hard time not standing out; whether or not this is his intention seems ludicrous in that it fails to mention if he’s aware of it at all. My guess would be no. Seth is in his own world, hence the sporadic outbursts of singing and dancing, the latter having more confidence in its execution. “Oh, I can shake it!” he boasts at my dare of performing the Beyonce dance. Although growing up in Atlanta for all of his life understandably stamps him as a southern citizen, Seth points out the South here isn’t what you would call the true South, a case only further proven once you transcend the borders of Georgia into, let’s say, South Carolina. There he insists is where the Deep South is, complete with its own array of scorned confederates, alcohol-addicted rednecks, and hicks. “I think Atlanta forgets it’s in the south,” he says, without a trace of an accent to incriminate him.

This established his appearance justifies itself, his wavy brown hair cascading just below his shoulders (his beauty secrets remain unknown but Herbal Essence is usually the culprit is to blame.) and his chin decorated with thick beginnings of a beard. From his appearance, I assumed he was 17 but his birthday isn’t until another two weeks (hint. Hint.) at which he’ll receive the esteemed title of the sweet sixteen. “I’m always mistaken for being older…I like it. Now only if I would get taller!” I only understand too well being 5’2 and 17 myself. Sigh. Well you can’t have it all.

Seth attends the Dekalb School of Art, a place free of ridiculous teen movie slew of stereotypes, sending few surprises; However, when asked about his hobbies out of school, it’s little different. He likes nature and swimming or “pool walking” as he later calls it.

“I’m a Groupie!” He volunteers when asked about the Decemberists, a band in his eyes, no less than amazing.
“Would you ever lift up your shirt [at a concert like those super hyped teenage girls]?” I tease.
“Only if I had a temporary tattoo of the lead singer on my chest,” he answers, rubbing his chest accordingly. I should have known. Seth doesn’t consider himself as a jokester; rather he tries to push out the mundane and dull. “I try not to be apathetic although I can be,” he remarks, which he never is at the VOX office. If that ever occurred VOX would probably be thrown into elongated state of confusion which brings us to our next question. Why join VOX? Why not just stalk the Decemberists instead? “I love to write,” he says simply, hinting at his aspirations of being a writer. Comedy, I assume would be his forte.