Was it only yesterday that, after a large quantity of weed, I decided that Galaxie 500's On Fire was one of the greatest albums in rock history?
It was longer than yesterday, and perhaps the praise was a tad overzealous, but not much.
When This Is Our Music was released, it served as a lysergic soundtrack to a trip to Colorado in an '87 Ford Tempo with a lame tie-rod.
I saw a monkey that looked like David Byrne at the Denver zoo and suffered through some strange post-hallucinagenic depression as I tried to make good time through Nebraska.
And through it all, Galaxie 500 was my soundtrack.
Specifically, the lyrics to "Fourth Of July" seemed very appropriate as I pondered life, love, and growing the fuck up on Interstate 80:
"And if it don't improve
Then I have to move
I never thought that I would end up here"
And "here" turned out to be the very state that I claimed that I would leave during high school. I never did and, for the most part, I've got no regrets that I continue to call Iowa home.
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