Stephen Mejias

As I mentioned yesterday, I had, for some time — long before acquiring a hi-fi, in fact — fought the idea of placing my couch against the rear wall of my living space. When I finally did, however, I found that things both looked and sounded different. And not only different, but: better. And I'm not confusing the two. So, what's up with this?

Maybe it's because of the rain. Maybe it's because of the Mets. There's no reason for me to be thinking of this now, but I am. And so:

This weather is pointless. Pointless! What's the use of all this snow and ice? Don't tell me it looks pretty. I'm just not fit for this sort of cold. It's days like today after windy winter nights like last, when the temperatures plunge into the single digits and my apartment's old pipes freeze, that I wish I had an entire fleet of fiery amps to keep me warm.

Good thing I bought all those records.

Michael Lavorgna reports on Philip Jeck and Ted Riederer’s performance, last night, at Our Lady of Lebanon Cathedral, in Brooklyn. Jeck sat at a table, with access to a small keyboard and a few simple turntables. Meanwhile, Riederer played guitar and sang, sending his signals through various effects pedals, looping them and transferring them directly to lathe-cut vinyl. Upon the completion of a side, Riederer would hand the newly created record to an unsuspecting Jeck. In turn, Jeck, with a smile, would place the record upon a turntable and play along. It continued like that for some time.

Like ML, I was captivated by the total experience: the dim lighting, the attentive crowd, the lulling sounds, the rich scents, the soft feel of old floorboards and torn carpeting&#151it all worked to transfix and transport.

Ariel's two new favorite toys&#151one found in the garbage, and one bought with his hard-earned cash: The Sony">http://blog.stereophile.com/stephenmejias/like_an_old_friend/">Sony CFM-10 Radio Cassette-Corder and the Bellari VP129, one-tube wonder.

Madison Avenue is normally a nearly impenetrable fortress of buses. Crossing it is a choking, weaving, stuttering adventure; a New York City version of Chutes and Ladders.