STEPHEN MEJIAS
This ravishing yet reticent redhead claims to have been in love on at least three occasions. Though fiery at the start, each romance fizzled with time, unable to live up to Stephen's ideals. She says, "I have no regrets. I would rather be lonely than sorry…"
At around 1pm on July 10, 1964almost exactly 45 years agopercussionist Sunny Murray, bassist Gary Peacock, and saxophonist Albert Ayler met at the Variety Arts Recording Studio just off of Times Square to record what would become the first jazz release for Benard Stollman's ESP-Disk. The studio was tiny and cramped and its walls were covered with Latin album covers and its doors were open so that the musicians could breathe. Can you imagine how hot it must have been?
There's a strange similarity between La Lupe and Melanie. They are both clearly passionate, to say the least. I've read that La Lupe's live shows had that certain danger to them that only the greatest rock performances can manage. On stage, her hands went wild like pigeons exploding into the summer sky: Lupe would poke at her face, tug at her clothes, and throw her shoes into the crowd.
David Lynch's The Big Dream will be released by Captured Tracks on July 16th. If Crazy Clown Time, David Lynch's successful 2011 solo debut, is any indication, we're in for a surreal and haunting treat: heavy starlit skies, empty highways, torch songs, and reverb-drenched blues. You can ask Michael Lavorgna about that.
While I was still basking in the warm, colorful glow of my Polyvinyl package, I received a copy of The Book of Audacity, written by Carla Schroeder and published by No Starch Press. This 359-page guide promises to help “build that home recording studio that you’ve been talking about for years.”
Forum member, dbowker, gave me the heads-up on this special Record Store Day LP. With This LP Crashes Hard Drives, ten of my favorite hard-core crate-digging specialist labels came together to release one hell of a deluxe, limited-edition, gatefold masterpiecejust one of the many reasons to raise our voices and rejoice for Record Store Day. The awesome package includes a CD sampler, zines, catalogs, stickers, and posters from all participating labels.
I started with Loudon Wainwright's Unrequited. Though the front cover shows Wainwright looking positively pained, a tear streaming down his forlorn face, the back cover is a completely different story: all shits and giggles, which perfectly complements the live nature of the album's second side. Who knows what Loudon was crying about? Maybe he simply preferred live performances over studio work. I share the feeling.
John Vanderslice’s seventh studio album, White Wilderness, marked by the enchanting, fluid maneuvers of the Magik*Magik Orchestra, was released last Tuesday. The entire albumnine twisting, coiling songs, spanning 31 minuteswas recorded in just three days, but sounds as purposeful and carefully conceived as a special gift.
Meanwhile, Vanderslice has another gift up his sleeve:
In support of National Autism Awareness Month, McIntosh Laboratory and songwriter/producer J. Ralph have come together to create a spectacular new album, the original motion picture soundtrack to Academy Award winning director Gerardine Wurzburg’s Wretches & Jabberers. The feature-length documentary, in theaters now, follows the paths of two men with autism, Larry Bissonnette and Tracy Thresher, as they travel around the world determined to increase autism awareness and refine our ideas of intelligence.
Growing up, Thresher and Bissonnette were presumed “retarded” and excluded from normal schooling. With limited speech, they both faced lives of social isolation in mental institutions or adult disability centers. When they learned as adults to communicate by typing, their lives changed dramatically. Their world tour message is that the same possibility exists for others like themselves.
Yesterday evening, I met with composer J. Ralph and McIntosh’s Global VP of Sales and Marketing, Linda Passaro, for an intimate listening session.
Truth is: I know diddly-squat about Frank Zappa. I've heard this and that, of course, and all I've heard has always been intriguing, but, for no good reason, I've just never taken the time to dive into Zappa's world. Perhaps it's because his world seems so enormous and wild and foreign. His world is full of barking pumpkins and utility muffins and Sprechstimme and other things I can neither imagine nor pronounce. I mean, even his name is strange. Like an exclamation, like a shot of electricity. Zappa! Say it three times, and something bad might happen. Zappa! Zappa! (No, don't!)