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Galaxie 500 always makes me think of lazy summer evenings spent drinking beer in a sunset haze. One fourth of July, Alec and I rode our bikes through a freak thunderstorm all the way to Coney Island. That night, we rode back up a trail on the Brooklyn waterfront, under the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge, through clusters of families holding sparklers and drinking beer. Still later, we found ourselves at the end of an abandoned pier in Red Hook, sipping 40s of Budweiser and watching the tugboats come in to dock. We banged our legs against the loosening concrete and sang this song to each other.
