Whenever I hear anything by the Pixies, I am immediately taken back to being 16 years old, when I was a wannabe music nerd and my 21-year-old cousin – a real music nerd who was in a band in high school and now DJs cool parties when he’s not being an award-winning photographer – whom I idolized told me that I should listen to the Pixies. I went the the record store and bought Surfer Rosa, the only album of theirs that was on the used discount CD table, and listened to it on repeat as I drove around, in an attempt to get into the Pixies. It didn’t take long to admit defeat; I just couldn’t fall in love with their music, much as I wanted to.
More than 10 years later, I do now, finally, really like the Pixies. I’m sure that CD is still somewhere in my parents’ basement.
This little vignette is part of a new initiative I’m starting of telling the little stories that come to mind as I go about my daily life.