Stephen Mejias

Clouds Taste Metallic

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, <i>Clouds Taste Metallic</i>. I put the disc in the player. I sit back. And I listen, and I remember.

Continue Reading »
Advertisement
Advertisement
Advertisement