At some point in college, I decided that I was “over” all of my adolescent tastes. I ignored all of the emo, punk, metal, and whatever else in favor of folk, indie rock, post punk, and “weird” stuff like Krautrock and dub reggae.
I’ve since come back around, but I’m still trying to catch up on all of the stuff I’ve missed during that time (I still haven’t listened to a full album by The World Is A Beautiful Place). In trying to sort out what’s worth diving into and what isn’t worth my time, a friend recommended Basement. And from the first listen, I was absolutely enraptured by the jangling chords, soaring melodies, and dynamic shifts.
Hipster music snob that I am, the depths of my musical knowledge is riddled with blind spots. For example: until last week, I realized that I had never knowingly listened to Dinosaur Jr. 
Memory is a funny thing. When the intersection of thrift and communal nostalgia led me to buy this record when I found it on the cheap, I didn’t expect that I would have ever had every single song on here memorized.
Being a well-loved indie darling is something of a double-edged sword. You can either suffer in anonymity while your immense talent fails to find the appreciation it deserves, or you can find widespread success and get labeled a sell-out.
I’m not sure if any record has indirectly influenced me as much as this one while simultaneously escaping my attention for so long.