Stephen Mejias

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Stephen Mejias  |  May 11, 2009  |  6 comments
Though he, like many others, moved to New York City as soon as he could, Mike Bones is from New Jersey. Bloomfield, or Belleville, or maybe Bayonne. Somewhere around there—somewhere not far from a good view of the Manhattan skyline. You can hear it in his lyrics. Only a boy from New Jersey could write and sing a song called "Today the World Is Worthy of My Loathing."
Stephen Mejias  |  Feb 20, 2009  |  5 comments
I also picked this one up at Boomerangs. At the time, I knew nothing about Melanie Safka. Looking at the front cover, I must have immediately thought, hmm… psychedelic hippie music, or something like that. I also noticed that it was released by Buddah Records who I was familiar with for their work with Captain Beefheart and Rodriguez. Turning to the back, I was intrigued by Melanie's liner notes, which pretty much told me that this chick is crazy.
Stephen Mejias  |  Apr 15, 2011  |  4 comments
On Thursday night, I attended a fantastic dinner at a “beer bar” called The Porter, in the colorful Little Five Points section of Atlanta. As my good friend Michael Lavorgna says, any place with the words “beer” and “bar” in its name has got to be at least half great. And The Porter, as it turned out, was all great. If you’re ever in Atlanta, go!

But before you go to The Porter, you should first go to Criminal Records, a wonderful record store. I didn’t go in on Thursday night, but Michael Fremer quietly wandered away from our group and snuck inside for a bit. As we sat around our table, drinking Dog Fish Head and Victory, we made guesses as to when Mikey would finally arrive. We were all wrong: We had had two rounds and had finished almost all of the appetizers by the time Mikey finally joined us. He came in with a stack of beautiful $1 LPs, and displayed them throughout our dinner.

“Have you ever heard this?” he asked me.

“No.”

“Oh, it’s great. Here, take this. I’ve got a bunch of them.”

And that’s the story of how I got a pristine copy of As Falls Wichita, So Falls Wichita Falls, by Pat Metheny & Lyle Mays. Thanks, Mikey!

Stephen Mejias  |  Sep 11, 2008  |  4 comments
If you were to judge this album just by its cover, you might imagine the music inside to be weird and awesome. At least that's what I imagined. If you're like me, you'd be absolutely desitively right. Dr. John's Babylon is something else.
Stephen Mejias  |  Sep 12, 2008  |  2 comments
As I searched through the new arrivals at the Princeton Record Exchange, I kept coming back to this album. I knew nothing about Oscar Brown Jr.—had never even heard of the guy—but the pain communicated in the album title and cover art intrigued me. Even if it turned out that I didn't like the music, I'd at least get an interesting piece of art. And for just four bucks!
Stephen Mejias  |  Sep 16, 2008  |  3 comments
Music has never made me cry. I have cried while listening to music, with something else on my mind. But music, by itself, while powerfully moving, has never brought me to tears. When others mention that a certain piece of music, or a specific musical performance, touches them so deeply that the tears flow from their eyes, I wonder what it is, exactly, that is happening. What are these people feeling? And why haven't I felt it?
Stephen Mejias  |  Aug 08, 2008  |  9 comments
Tighten the laces on your Vans and jump on your skateboard, strap on your helmet and hop on your scooter, pump some air into the tires of your cruiser, do whatever you have to do, dudes; Dash, sprint, leap, fly like Olympians to your nearest record shop and lay down the $19.99 for the new Leila Arab album.
Stephen Mejias  |  Apr 29, 2010  |  6 comments
Whenever I’m at Tunes in Hoboken, getting my fingers all dirty on the vinyl LPs, I stop and stare at this one album, John Prine’s Sweet Revenge, and I wonder what it’s all about. Prine looks pretty bad-ass there in his convertible, decked out in so much blue denim, dark aviators over his eyes, a cigarette at his lips, the wind in his hair, legs crossed and flung out over the passenger side window like he’s seriously satisfied, like he really doesn’t care.
Stephen Mejias  |  Mar 29, 2011  |  5 comments
I resisted at first, but Cold Cave's Love Comes Close became one of my very favorite records of 2009. The album also led me to one of New York City's darkest, spookiest, and most welcoming record shops, Hospital Productions, a fantastic source of underground noise, industrial, and experimental work on CD, LP, and, good-god-almighty, cassette.

Cold Cave's new album, Cherish the Light Years will be available in similarly fine record shops on April 5th, but Matador Records has provided a free stream, so you can listen now.

Stephen Mejias  |  Dec 23, 2008  |  8 comments
It kind of happens intuitively, like breathing or crying or finding your way back home. Every year around this time, I scan my compact disc racks and watch as my hand reaches for The Flaming Lips' 1995 album, Clouds Taste Metallic. I put the disc in the player. I sit back. And I listen, and I remember.

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