I was sitting at my desk focused on some regular and trivial task at work, when the first few chords of Nightswimming came through my headphones, simple and incredibly familiar. In a flash, my heart rate changed, my breath caught in my chest, and I was transported back to a very specific place and time, in a sudden rush of unexpected nostalgia. I wanted to pause the song and collect myself—prepare myself—but it was streaming live from KEXP and if I paused it, I would miss it. I didn’t want to miss it. But I wasn’t really ready for it either, so I lifted my hands off the keyboard, set them in my lap, and let it happen. I sat there and just let it wash over me. Let those memories surge in like rising floodwater. To my ankles, to my knees, to my waist, up to my neck in thick, murky teenage wistfulness.