At the moment this post goes live, I’ll be in the middle of nowhere, the middle of everything. Sasquatch. My seventh—2004, 2008, 2010, 2011, 2012, 2014, and this year. Each more questionable a decision than the one before.

There’s no way to know what fate has befallen me by the time these words are read by anyone but myself, but if all goes right, when this post goes up, I’ll be watching the very band it’s about, for the second time in eight days. Cataldo, a local band whose singer volunteers at the place I’m ever so glad to have left last year. Last November, he opened for Ben Gibbard at a Little Big Show at the Neptune, and the friend I attended with, who never remembers any smaller band she sees, described it as definitely memorable.

It’s weird when the first thing that strikes you about a song is how it sounds like another from an age past, and weirder still when you go back and listen to that prior song and realize it sounds nothing like the new one. Such is the case with “Other Side,” which on first listen recalled of Primitive Radio Gods’ “Standing Outside a Broken Phone Booth With Money in my Hand,” a track from 1996, the only year a song with a title that long could possibly become a hit.

But why?

There’s so little in common with the songs. I guess the percussion has a similar tone, but that’s about it. “Na na na”s and “do do do”s? I have no idea.

Even as I write this, I’m in another place, another time. Comparing a song from the year I turned 13 to one released when I was 30. Sitting on my couch alone at home, standing in (hopefully) a crowd at Sasquatch. Sober, less-than. Past, present, future—all elusive right now, all blending together, like two songs that aren’t that similar, but jumbled in my mind nonetheless.