MEHRO TURNS VULNERABILITY INTO ART WITH WEIRDTHROB

BY: JESSE ZAPATERO

Photographer: Dylan Perlot, Producer + Interview: Jesse Zapatero, Stylist: Joshua Alan Clark, Hair & Make-Up: Patrick Santa Ana, Stylist Assistant: Margarita Ayala

Mehro has never been an artist content with the surface. Since emerging as one of indie music’s most introspective and emotionally attuned songwriters, they’ve carved out a lane that feels both intimate and universal, like reading someone’s diary only to realize it’s your own. Their new album Weirdthrob—a nine-track plunge into distortion, tension, and radical vulnerability—marks their boldest step yet. It’s not just a collection of songs but a living, breathing entity that resists easy definition: “an entrance and an exit,” as Mehro calls it, with lyrics that peel back their psyche without ever fully explaining it, Weirdthrob invites listeners to experience discomfort as a pathway to self-recognition. It’s not polished or desperate; it’s anti-perfect, enigmatic, and strangely fulfilling—an album you don’t just hear but inhabit.

Onstage, Mehro transforms these contradictions into a ritual of presence. Their ongoing world tour feels less like a promotional cycle and more like a roaming community. Each night is another conversation, another chance to strip away the distance between artist and audience.—one moment, you’re caught in the noise and strobe of their performance, the next, you’re simply two humans talking outside the venue.

Even in the way they speak about their work, Mehro resists the performance of self-mythology. They talk about timelessness as a goal but shrug off responsibility for how people receive their music. They value nourishment over numbers, connection over metrics, and authenticity over aesthetic perfection. This is why, even mid-tour, they carve out moments for gratitude. Weirdthrob may be a mirror, a question, a glitch-as-guide, but it’s also an invitation. It asks listeners not to find the answer but to stay open to the question. And in doing so, it offers what Mehro themselves has been chasing all along: a space where presence trumps perfection, and being exactly who you are is more than enough.

Top by Strike Oil, Skirt by Madison Jewelinski, Necklaces by Pyrrha, Rings by Rat Betty

Mehro, I’ve had the honor to listen to your album, it really doesn’t feel like something that’s just meant to be heard but experience. What do you want us as listeners and fans state of mind to be when we press play.

The state of mind is whoever and however you are when the music finds you. come as you are. You’re more than enough. One of those things that I’ve been saying on the road is “It’ll do what it’ll do Cock-a-doodle do”

Yes, that’s so funny but its real

It’s fucking real so, whether life’s going your way or not going your way, this album is yours. Thats it. You’re more than enough.

Were there any moments in the studio while creating this album when a song turned out even better than you expected?

I really did not expect sewers to turn out as great as it turned out, it was written as a very slow song, as like a quiet song really. and it suddenly this emotion came out of nowhere - I love surprises like that.

Can you tell us a little about “Sewers”? As a fan, I find the message really universal and relatable, but I know that when an artist writes a song, it comes from a personal perspective.

I actually want to know your perspective on it to. what does it mean to you.

To me, it’s just one of those songs where I take a ride and reflect, Feel your emotions. It’s like your in a movie but the shitty part where life is hitting you from all sides.

The bad parts of the movies are essential. I’m nervous and careful about sharing too much about the song because I want people to form their own perspective on it. But I will share where it was written. I was in a green room in Nashville, opening for Half Alive at this beautiful venue. The show in Nashville got postponed because the sound was messed up. The next day — and I didn’t realize this until about a week ago — I wrote “Trapped in the Sewers.” I remember it clearly because I kept replaying it from my voice memos. It happened while Half Alive was performing “Automatic” during their set, and the song just came out. It was awesome.

I feel that song so much, especially when you say, “Trapped in the sewers of my mind,” because sometimes we dig our own hole, right? And we’re just in our shit, and it’s hard to get out of it. In those moments where you are trapped in your sewage, how do you get yourself out?

That’s a beautiful question. Yesterday, I was in it, and I listened to a song that made me think of somebody I love. I listened to a couple of songs that hold a good perspective, that are there with me, and put me in the right headspace for the show — to remind myself of all the things that have nothing to do with me but are so much more important: the connections I’ve made along the way, the gratitude I’ve felt along the way, the people who have been there for me, the kindness. When I’m trapped in the sewers, the ladders that lead out are the reminders of what is most important.

Man, “Sewers” is just one of those that hits hard. Another one of my favorites is “Lady Parts and Mannequins.” I saw you perform that one. “Sometimes I wish I was a sex doll so we can fuck so much that we can’t be friends” — like that part, mannnn. Like I said, the message is universal, and even myself, I’ve been in situationships where we do so much — are we more than friends or what? So, I have to ask about this song: can you elaborate more on what the meaning behind this song is?

You know, I’ve realized I’m not like most people. I have the ability to separate being friends with somebody, loving somebody, and wanting to fuck somebody. I’m able to separate all of that, and not everyone can do that. I mean what I say in these songs sometimes. Being able to be an object for somebody to use without some sort of connection — and don’t get me wrong, I love connection. It’s super important to me. But I don’t want to cause people pain in the missing of that connection, and so with objects it’s hard to make people miss something like that. I don’t want to cause people pain; I want to cause people pleasure. Being a sex doll is an analogy of that. Yeah, I wish you could call me over and you could just use me and then I’ll leave. I don’t care.

That’s a beautiful way to put it. When you’re writing your songs - Do you think more of timelessness or do you just capture the exact moment of thought that you’re in?

The goal is always to be timeless, because if you’re trying to make something for the moment, it’ll most likely be shitty or stuck in that place, which sucks. I don’t want to be stuck in that place. I want songs to survive and thrive long after I’m gone from this planet. Songs made by people I will likely never meet — songs made by people who have been dead for a very long time — touch my heart and touch my soul. Timelessness is always the game.

Top, pants and tie by Madison Jewelinski, Belt by Natashia Studio, Shoes by Yume Yume, Necklace by Pyrrha, Rings by Rat Betty

Real, because whatever you put out is essentially permanent, and you’ve likely had fans tell you how your music has impacted their personal lives or how they’ve taken your messages and run with them — does that responsibility ever weigh on you?

No, it doesn’t. It’s beautiful — a gift, honestly. Their experience is their experience, positive or negative, and, in a weird way, I almost have nothing to do with it. It’s their minds that have formed in a way to be able to experience the art. It’s their minds that are deciding how they feel about it — the influences of their genetics and their nature. I almost have nothing to fucking do with it. So it’s a gift to be able to meet people who are touched by the music. You know, when people are grateful for something you do and you’re just like, “I was gonna do this anyway,” it’s like thanking me for walking down the street.

I love the way you interact with your fans, too. Even at the show yesterday, it felt like you were speaking directly to everybody in the room that’s a beautiful thing. Even online, I’ve seen you go live on Instagram to chat with everyone. Why is it so important for you to connect with everyone through shows, music, and online interactions?

I think it’s the most valuable thing: connection. Online, yes, it’s the way people discover music, but it’s also about maintaining a relationship, and it’s another way to give people art. The numbers are a quick fix — it’s cheap, it’s a dessert. It tastes good, don’t get me wrong; when something does well, the numbers are there. It tastes good, but it’s not fulfilling, it’s not where you can keep something nourishing. Nutrition and nourishment come from the direct connection with people who resonate with you, not just likes on a fucking post.

With everything being so accessible and people often hiding behind screens, has that affected the way you create, knowing that people can respond to you instantly?

That’s interesting. No, it hasn’t affected the way I create because it’s the only way I’ve ever known. However I have been creating is the only world I’ve known. I’m sure artists from the ’70s or earlier might have changed the way they create — I hope they don’t, but I’m sure they might. For me, though, it’s something outside of myself.

You’re on tour on your way to your next show has there been any interactions with fans that have stuck with you?

So many. Fortunately for me, I’m able to see faces and feel people. There are so many people in Denver that I connected with. A woman in Portland who was looking after my uncle before he passed away said that he spoke so highly of me. So many people last night — friends and family, people I went to elementary school with, people I went to acting school with who brought their daughter, Suzanne, and her daughter. Suzanne was one of the first people to ever hear the song “Lighting” in my acting class just a few weeks after I wrote it. For her to hear it in VIP… getting to meet people before and after the show is what makes touring so enjoyable for me, because it brings it to a human quality rather than just being a monkey on stage. Which is great — I love being on stage, I love performing for people, but it’s not reality. It’s fantasy. When you’re talking to people outside, we’re all on the same level. There are no lights or stage, higher or lower, more or less — just two humans having a conversation. And that grounds me.

That’s beautiful, man. I have to say, I’ve seen quite a few artists, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone perform the way you do. You’re so personable and amazing with everyone — shouting out everybody in the venue, from the security and cleaning crew to the bartenders, the band, and the people in the crowd. I just want to say thank you for being you — I really love your album, and I’m excited for the world to experience it. I do have one last question for you, and take your time answering this one. I ask everyone this: if you were a book, what book would Mehro be, and why?

If we do another interview, I can change my answer? I can give another book for another day?

Yes, for sure!

Well, the first book that came to mind is The Power of Awareness by Neville Goddard, but the second book — which is going to be my final answer — is The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho. Without any spoilers, everything you have is already in your possession. Every answer you’re looking for already exists. Everything you deserve is yours. I hope that when people listen to the music, they gain more empathy for the world, sure, but they start with having empathy for themselves. You know, haters — people who are pieces of shit — are often people who think they themselves are pieces of shit, perhaps it’s a voice in their head. The people we can’t stand in our lives often can’t stand themselves, so if you’re able to nurture yourself in the way you need to be nurtured, find people who love you the way you want to be loved, and love yourself the way you need and deserve to be loved, a lot of things are going to work out. The Alchemist is sort of the tip of the iceberg of what that power and love is.