Tag Archives: Mexicolas

Godspeed, Mexicolas

Jamie posted this on their official webpage six days ago.
The mind boggles, the heart breaks, the anger rises.

Dear friends,

After years of trying in vain to compete with the machine that is the “music industry”, it is time to inform you that the band are hanging up their spurs once and for all. The frustration felt by many as to why Mexicolas never made a bigger splash, is felt none more than by myself and all who have worked with me over the past six years. I would like to thank all the great musicians I played with, Tim Trotter, Del Carter, Ben Drummond, Steve Godfrey, Dan Whitehouse and Paul Stone for putting up with my manic ways. Each line up brought something different to Mexicolas and I couldn’t have wished to have worked with a finer crop of people. To all involved behind the scenes I thank you sincerely. But the biggest thank you goes out to all of you who believed in my songs and kept me going, you made me realise it’s not about fame and fortune…the reward of genuinely touching people with music is worth all the years of hard work alone. Many great memories I have of Mexicolas, but it is a chapter of my life that I feel has run its course. And so InExile are putting everything I’ve ever done, demos that didn’t make the first and second record, acoustic versions and rearrangements, and of course the new material that I’ve been working on with Paul Stone onto iTunes. So…Once they’re up there… Please do help yourself to whatever takes your fancy…treat it like a song based pick and mix. I hope you enjoy owning/hearing them. (secretly i’m hoping you’ll download everything three times so i can afford a new Pair of shoes!!!) It would be a shame to lock them up to never be heard again. And so with a heavy heart I say once more, THANK YOU for listening. The creeps in my head have all gone to bed…


Times like these I say, no fucking justice and also, if anyone dares to tell me ever again that Lady GaGa and the like make good music, I am going to hit them in the face. They are parasytes who live inside the minds of zombies… us, people… we are zombies. We settle for the crapload pushed down our throats. We accept what’s mediocre and we even start to like it. Finally, we believe that’s what we all are, mediocre lumps of crap.

You know what? If you do accept mediocrity in your life… YOU BECOME IT.

Dear Mexicolas, Jamie and the rest of you guys, you left a very deep imprint on my heart and memories like that never fade.

All my love.


Miracles Inc.

After my high-brow mini-essay on friendship (please insert self-ironic smiley) and the extensive feedback, I was preparing to write my next posts on two important and controversial subjects. I was already discussing the pros and cons in my mind, I was preparing my argument. (God it’s been ages since my last academic essay!) Well, not really; this is a personal blog and I refuse to be cornered by any regulations whatsoever. Back to what I was saying – please pardon my incoherence, I slept a skimpy four hours and my grey matter is preoccupied with something that happened yesterday -, so, like I was saying… yes. Controversial, universally discussed matters. Those will have to wait.

They say miracles happen to those who believe in miracles. My question is: do we start believing once we witness a miracle, or do miracles happen because we condition ourselves to believe in them…? I think I would say both. I don’t remember I ever saw a burning bush or the disappearance of a man, but at one point in my life, miracles did start to happen. True, they were small miracles. Reading the minds of others. Experiencing something that altered my whole existence. Receiving a reply from God (or the universe, or call it what you want) to a question/request, or receiving a reply to something I was only thinking about. Meeting people who changed who I am, who shaped my life and my outlook on the world. I think what I prefer to call miracles per se, are events of synchronicity; at first, I called them accidents, or haphazard occurences, but as time passed, I began to notice that these events of synchronicity started to occur more and more often. Whether I intuitively sensed these events, whether I willed them to happen, I think it doesn’t really matter. I think it works both ways. I think we want something so hard that we do help along that cause, and when it’s almost happening, our precognition flares the red light: it’s happening!

They say that if we love someone very much, we start reading them. We start feeling what they feel without talking to them. Perhaps even without being on the same continent with them. I have had so many instants of synchronised thinking, or unpremeditated thought-synchronising between me and my friends (and sometimes even strangers) that by now, I’m not even surprised whenever it happens again. I divined people’s thoughts and they divined my thoughts, too. We read each other’s minds and hearts, we visualised them; I sensed actual numbers, objects, places and settings before they happened. (No, I do not play the lottery. Moronic, right?) I knew what hotel room number a celebrity was going to have a year before he came to Hungary. (No kidding.) I talked about an event at a particular setting, something that never happened before, and the next day the news came of that particular setting being used by that celebrity. I visualised thoughts and memories and feelings in Photoshop wallpapers, memories and thoughts of others. I figured out small personal events in someone’s life without ever having spoken to them. I don’t use a crystal ball or even cards; these things just happen. And they happen increasingly more often these days; pretty soon I’ll stop talking to people because the mind-reading (it goes both ways!) is starting to happen on a ridiculous scale!

I’d like to stress that I don’t think I’m a unique person when it comes to extra-sensory perception, in fact, I’ve lately come into contact with people whose lives contain some pretty hardcore stuff. You wouldn’t believe them if I told you, I myself wouldn’t believe them if I hadn’t been there. The thing is, humankind is evolving; whether we like it or not, ESP is a daily ingredient of our lives and everyone, each and every one of us is capable of becoming a precog. We all are precogs. It’s there whether you believe, or not; some of us are more open, some of us are very close-minded, but that doesn’t change the facts.

In any case, this just happened: I went to a concert last October, the band got through to me big time with their music and stage presence, I wrote a blog post (a concert review) several months after that with the aim of making the band’s name more present on the world wide web (they are not yet very well-known, it’s a shame because they really rock), several months passed, there were no comments, and I thought, I performed my duty and I talked about them, as well as my own feelings openly. I owed them this much. Last night on my train home I listened to their album for the first time in months and wondered to myself if the guys ever came across my review and whether they liked it. I arrived home and a comment from the lead singer of the band was waiting for me under the review. He thanked me for my honesty and he said that if they moved just one person in the crowd the night of that concert, it was worth it and that my words mean a lot to them.

I will spare you the graphic details of my emotional implosion; suffice it to say, when I was able to think straight again, I thanked him on my blog and I thanked the universe and God for a lot of things. For getting a reply to the request (plea is more like it) that I sent forth just yesteday about not getting love in return. For the simple, unmistakable proof that words do matter, and that honesty moves people, that an open heart is the shortest way to another person’s heart. For the fact that my blog is not redundant, and for the fact that my words get there; perhaps not always, perhaps there is no feedback, but my words do get there. I am of little faith and God saw it fit to shake me back into the reality of miracles with a gigantic, loving nudge.

So now here I am sitting on a pile of miracles that is growing every day; I look around and tell myself to keep an open eye, ear and heart at all times; you can never tell when you see, hear or feel something that will rock your boat and create ripples and waves to other people’s soul. I was so not expecting a warm-up band to rock my world last October; after a few years that were (in my opinion) jampacked with miracles, I did not expect any more. Even now, sitting on my pile and cherishing the memories, I fully believe that that was it. No more are coming, I mean it’s impossible. What more could happen?!

And yet, I know, based on my firm and wonderful experience, that life is full of doors ready to be opened.

And behind those doors, miracles are ready to occur just for us.

Out of the blue joy: MEXICOLAS

So I’ve been wanting to write about this British indie rockband for some time now. I am such a no-know when it comes to music I had no clue they were an indie rockband. I am thirty-two going on thirty-three and I have habits that are hard to break, as well as a taste in music and films that is probably as constant as my unchanging character (for better or worse; so if you like me, fine, but it you don’t, you can give up hope that I will ever change). I like music, a wide variety of it, but lately, I have become picky. Time flies and I am not immortal. Guess I’m stingy with my days as I am with my display of emotions, save toward a choice few people that probably see it as a curse and not a blessing. Anyways, one really has to be picky these days, otherwise you get flooded by endless waves of musical regurgitations of all the generations that think they can give us something new. They can’t, but we are easy to fool anyway. I certainly am. I have no idea what good music is, or isn’t. But lately, I’ve been getting musically surprised less and less. Probably because I don’t sacrifice enough at the altar of musical arts. I am sure I’m missing out on 90% of all the great music happening out there.

Fact is, when I am musically surprised, it is bound to last. Once tamed, those foxes will stay in my yard for good.

I flew over to London a few months ago to meet up with some good friends for a Lifehouse concert. I had no prior knowledge of this band’s music, generally speaking, except a few songs I kindof liked. They play decent rock music, melodic, easy to digest, very entertaining. Years ago I would have died for this band. I was in my early twenties and rock music was not popular, in fact, there was 1 stingy hour per week on the radio dedicated to melodic rock. Of course, when something’s not widely accepted, it tends to be considered… special. I sure as hell spent hours, weeks, years of my life in a dreamworld of my own, infatuated with the overall mood and feel to melodic rock, not to mention the guy presenting that radio show. I cherish fond memories of those times. Very fond memories. But this post-rant is not about those times, it’s about how those times were unique and how, once rock music came back on the market, I suddenly fell out of love with it. It’s probably not as simple as this but the gist is certainly it. Lifehouse would have moved me to tears… back then. They have everything that reached me a decade ago: gripping lyrics, good instrumentation, catchy choruses, and very attractive musicians.

The concert was quite okay. All but a half drunk and halitosis-afflicted woman with plaster on her arm trying to push herself closer and closer to the stage, literally yelling her way through. Once I decided to let her go before me, I was finally able to relinquish my sick stomach and enjoy the music.

I probably would have enjoyed the music a whole lot more if the warm-up band had not been so frickin’ amazing. But they were.

I have had great experiences with warm-up bands before. Tori Amos, awesome as she is, introduced us to Ben Christophers and Joshua Radin, both musicians on our shelf by now, two amazing performers/songwriters on their own. There were probably more that i saw and unexpectedly fell for but I can’t remember them right now. In any case, for the above reasons I am always open-minded and expectant about warm-up musicians. One never knows what treasure they might stumble upon. I tried to tell this to my friends who are (all three of them with me that day) fans of Lifehouse. They were eager and impatient to get to the main course. Never mind the hors-d’oeuvre, bring on the meat. Well, I am not big on meat these days, I do eat meat often but in very small portions. So I was indeed looking forward to some nice salad, spicy with a healthy dressing, fresh, crunchy, delicious.

I sure as hell got it. It was the best salad I have had, compliments of the house, for a very long time.

Three young guys entered the stage in jeans and T-shirts and after a brief introduction, started playing their two guitars and drums. Halfway through the first song I was already enjoying myself. It was rock music and it was very easy on my ears. It was not reminiscent of old times’ rock, it was not cheesy or fluffy, and before I could tell my eyes to stop, I was watching the lead vocalist’s, well, face or whatever was visible behind his microphone. And he had this great voice. He had this amazing voice, he was playing with it, he could sing highs to die for and his face really followed the notes. He lived his music. I tried to figure out what age he could be, I thought he was in his twenties. That kind of fresh-sounding, healthy rock music with the right amount of depth to it could only be made by one of the thousands of rockbands in their teens or twenties prospering today. It sounded very up-to-date and yet, conservatively structured. To put it bluntly, my heartstrings were being tugged at, big time. My friends were starting to admit the band was good, by that time I was probably more into the lead vocalist than I would have liked to be. So what if I fell for him, a little? It’s part of the whole… performer-audience exchange thing. If you don’t fall in love with the artist, something’s gone wrong. They need to have you under their spell, it’s their shamanic power, the persuasion they use to alter your state of mind, and hopefully, state of heart. I won’t beat around the bush: I was easy game. I loved the music, and I loved the guy’s voice, and I loved the way these three young lads played their music. It was unassuming and honest, very raw and yet, tender. I was experiencing emotions. Lots of them. And if I hadn’t, I would’ve, because this… this out-of-the-world moment happened.

I was unsuspectingly enjoying the view and my heart was beating in synch with the drums, when the singer either noticed me looking at him, or simply noticed me above the crowd. I am a tall person, probably easy to spot. We were quite close to the stage. As a woman, I have suffered from the curse of being tall forever, but this time, I would not have traded my almost 6 feet for anything. I was noticed and my eyes were locked into by a pair of dark, intelligent eyes. I was so shocked I forgot to think or follow the lyrics or anything. I felt nothing, really, nothing romantic, I just kept looking at him and he kept looking at me and it was a good several seconds that would usually make for a dozen pages, if I was a good writer. (I have been trying to remember what lyrics he was singing when it happened. The shock was so intense I forgot everything.) The only thing that went through my mind was this uncanny sense of union between two human beings who for a very brief time, a very limited and finite time feel each other. (Later, I have been told that today’s music-makers create these moments to make people buy their albums by alluring them. It’s a theory all right.) If you think my judgement was clouded after this exchange of unspoken thoughts- you’re probably right. I was allured into absolutely falling for this band, head over heels. I was even allured into buying their two albums. I am not for a moment sorry I bought them; The Minerva Suite (2010) is simply brilliant. Great rock songs spiced with commercial trendy pop make the album a very good listen. Jamie, the creative spirit behind the band (and very much in his thirties, Hallelujah!) would probably despise me for hearing this but like I said, I am no music expert. I only know what I like and I promise I loved the music before you stared at me, J. My friends can attest to that. All three of them.

I wish I could give a song-by-song review of the album but I have no knowledge of music and it would sound like a fan’s rave, which would be fine, but it might not be enough. I really wish I could tell people they should give this album a chance. The lyrics are often challenging, but not so much as to discourage any rock-fan from loving the songs. I seriously love the raw tenderness of the words, as well as of the music. (And I was tickled pink when I read that Jamie himself described his music the same way in a brilliant interview found here: http://www.mudkiss.com/mexicolas.htm) I don’t know what else to say, really… I adore the voice of this very married (thank God for that because he is one serious eye-candy and becomes embarrassed when being told so, God bless him), and very down-to-earth guy whose ancestors were a musical people and who is sincerely trying to make good music, make it accessible but not overly accessible. I love the fact that there are still honest, modest and simple artists out there who try to make a decent living out of decent stuff, nothing over-the-top, just pure, simple, savoury stuff. There’s nothing wrong with being available for the masses, as long as you’re setting a good example, as long as you’re giving them wholesome food for thought. Not pre-digested, not completely raw, but just rightly cooked.

I am silently hoping the band will get a very well-deserved break and they will start touring on their own. I will keep my eyes and ears open for future events for sure.

I say, always be true to yourself, Jamie, and you’ll be fine.

And I just found this, a HQ video of a song that I heard there for the first time and I am not ashamed to say it brought me to tears. “Times infinity”.