For the past hour I’ve been lying on my floor listening to the same records I did when I was in late middle or early high school.  They may not have been the best but they certainly have proved to be the most powerful.  I’m not trying to be profound here, I’m just saying that music takes me back.

When I was maybe fifteen, a boy I knew from another school gave me a mixtape with El Scorcho on it.  Attached he wrote a note explaining, “One time I made a girl a mixtape and actually put this song on hoping she’d get the idea that it was how I felt about her.  How dumb, right? “  It took me a year to figure out that that girl was me. How dumb, right?

It’s not even the cute anecdotes that get me, really, but the highly texturized, somewhat droning songs that remind me of homes I’ve lived in which are cause for “repeat”.