you can read their full post here

excerpt:
…there’s an obvious chemistry between the singer and the band. The EP’s “Colossal” melds Pauley’s powerful voice with the band’s musical color in a way reminiscent of Aimee Mann, but with serious soul and some arena-rock aspirations. Lovely gives way to a big-rock climax, and it’s nearly undeniable.

excerpt:
She’s being brought back to the Phoenix by Brad Eakins, who promotes concerts through Where’s Weljo Productions. “We had a huge response for her,” Eakins says. “Her music speaks for itself. She’s just an amazingly powerful, soulful artist.”

From The Mouth Of Paris

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excerpt:
“Mieka is kind of bluesy, kind of R&B,” said Cassagnol. “… [Citizen Cope] is so much funkier, and yet it totally works because Mieka has got that down. But then we can get on stage with Ben Kweller and we can bring out more of rock and garage sound, so it can work with Ben Kweller.”


http://www.teapartyboston.com/2009/08/the-mieka-canon/

Over the years, I’ve come to understand a few important things about myself.  They are as follows: a) I am not a mellow or easy-going individual, and b) everybody knows that a good outline needs to have at least 2 points per subheading… hence, point (b).  Brian, on the other hand, is exceptionally relaxed and easy-going… to an incredibly socially awkward fault, in fact.  It’s like there’s this spectrum of social awkwardness that people with idiot savant-grade knowledge fall on proportionate to the extent to which their idiot savant-ness exceeds that of the average human brain.  Good examples of this include Felix Hoenikker of Vonnegut’s “Cat’s Cradle”, “Doc” from “Back to the Future”, and Bill Gates.  Brian’s position on this spectrum can most easily be located by finding a point on my own personal spectrum: “The extent to which Andrew wants to kill the world”.  This spectrum ranges from, “not at all” to “check that shit out… Andrew went and killed the world”.  Brian’s position on the “genius” scale can be found where it intersects the “Andrew has a knife to the world’s throat, but he’s not going to do anything about it” point on the “Andrew kills the world” scale.  As you can see, this gets complicated… and I have white hairs sprouting out on my chin to prove it.

In the end, the fact that Brian has never pushed me completely over the edge has given me the opportunity to adapt a little bit; and I think I’m a better person because of it; and by “better”, I mean, “more ok with being socially awkward and/or obnoxious myself”.  You see, I’ve adopted a revolutionary and groundbreaking new philosophy based on my experience with Brian.  It helps to alleviate stress in situations where Brian may be involved and I’m trying to avoid killing the world; but it also helps to put my mind at ease when I’m confronted with a personal dilemma, head cast up towards to the sky and in a situation where I formerly may have asked, “What would Liza Minnelli do?”.  Well, I’m through asking gay icons for advice.  The new philosophy goes something this: If Brian’s not worried, you’re not worried.

Let’s say that I’m in traffic and the left-hand lane is backed up for a mile or so due to the fact that everyone in that lane is turning left.  I need to turn left, too, but traffic in the right-hand lane is moving swiftly.  My new Brian-based philosophy advises me to thank the unspoken social code that causes people to feel an “obligation” to be stupid enough to wait in a line like this; at which point I simply move to the front of the line and cut everyone off.  Yes… they are angry.  Yes… they are honking.  But they probably don’t have guns, and I’m out of their hair before they know it.  Here’s another example of the philosophy in use: I’m at a wedding; I’m at a funeral; I’m in Boston city traffic; When is it appropriate to play “Super Monkey Ball” on my iPhone with the gadget less than 2 inches from my face?  The answer is that there is never a time when it’s not ok to play “Super Monkey Ball” on my iPhone with the gadget less than 2 inches from my face.  See how that works?  And I’m guilt free.  I’m simply not worried.  It’s the only way to go through life, really.  Kind of a “serenity now” meets “don’t worry be happy” approach to things.  The key is that it’s worry free.  Try it for yourself.  Even if it’s not 100% effective, you’ll at least have the pleasure of watching someone close to you hold a knife to the world’s throat and threaten to kill it.

I’d like to return to Rockwood Music Hall, if I may. Mieka, the rest of the band, and I were performing one of our heavier numbers when I seized on an opportunity to have an onstage rock-inspired moment with Mieka. Historically, execution of any traditionally Rock and Roll inspired antic within the context of Mieka Pauley could only be construed as ironic. There’s more acoustic guitar in Mieka Pauley’s past than under every campus tree in every pot-smoking east coast private college that exists or ever has existed. But Rock and Roll in at least one, if not more, of its forms has slowly been finding its way into Mieka Pauley’s music. Don’t get wrong! The extent to which the unadventurous, benign, house-cat character of any Mieka Pauley band member renders any type of raw, ass-kicking, trademark Rock and Roll moment ironic, should not be underestimated. What can I say? We like to drink wine and go to bed early. Irony, however, was not perched at the forefront of my consciousness when I decided to face Mieka onstage and thrust my guitar towards hers by pushing my pelvis out in an exaggerated “let’s make our guitars have sex”, moment. Mieka momentarily obliged. She sensed that this was something that her future identity was calling her to do. “Make your guitar have sex, Mieka,” her inner voice beckoned. “It’s dirty and exhibitionistic, but the people want to watch. You are Chrissie Hynde. You are Joe Perry. You are Slash.”

From my perspective, all this happened in an instant as Mieka momentarily consulted the ground. She paused, her body facing mine, but with her face cast downward, void of expression. Then, those big eyes turned up to meet mine, wide with panic, but not without a self-conscious twinge of humor regarding the absurdity of her position. “I don’t know how to do this”.

excerpt:
Mieka calls her music “soulful alt-pop/indie-rock.” We just call it good shit. Think (a grittier) Sarah McLachlan meets (a well-adjusted) Bjork. Plus brilliant lyrics.