Stephen Mejias

I spent some time last night listening to Joanna Newsom's Ys. Tangent CDP-50, Tangent AMP-50, Totem Arro loudspeakers. I know and love the Totem speakers, but the Tangents are new to me and, with Joanna Newsom's help and harp perhaps, they sounded better&#151more capable&#151than ever before in my small living room. The sound was fleshy and fast and detailed, whereas (earlier on and with other material) it had been thin and mechanical and uninvolving. I don't know if this has to do with the electronics breaking-in&#151they've now been in the system for about 200 hours&#151or if I was just in a good mood or if Joanna Newsom was responsible. And, right now, I don't care. I'll try to figure it out later.

For now: Joanna Newsom's Ys is a very special piece of work. I might be overreacting, but I find myself thinking that we&#151people, the world&#151should be thankful for it. Listening to Ys, it occurred to me that I spend too much time listening to stupid shit. I sat there, listening, thinking, listening, thinking.

Thinking: Man, I've got to stop listening to stupid shit. Everything I spend time with should be as special, as exceptional, as this.

I don't know if I'll hold myself to this ideal. Next week, or maybe even later today, I may wind up listening to some crap-ass indie pop band with some jangly, angular guitars and disco beats and yelps, but, for a little while, Joanna Newsom's Ys made me want better, made me want more, and I think that's worth noting.