There are songs that simply fit too perfectly a time and space in your life. The Chemical Brother’s Star Guitar always plays in my head when I board a train. The Passenger by Iggy Pop, my second fave song of his, does the same if I go into a tram.

Tram’s used to be ubiquitous here in Mexico City, but they eventually faded out, replaced by loud and obnoxious buses. The tram in Tampico was long gone before I was born, but I was fascinated by looking at photos of it and what it could’ve been to ride it.

Hate to admit my first tram ride was until I was 20, in Germany. I was in a trip with my parents, and somehow they expected me to half-communicate with a German ticket seller that we wanted three billets for a quick ride to the centre of Frankfurt am Main. I don’t how I pulled it out, but there we were, riding along. The song popped in my head, even if my head was somewhere else. Jeff Buckley had recently died, the Bulls won the championship, and I was deeply in love with Teresa. My head was a noodle of ideas, but it was all being powerwashed away by Iggy Pop’s mantra-like la la las.

That trip was a strange time in my life, and I still think about it. I dream a lot about trams, usually going to centre of towns that don’t exist, but in my dreams, I’ve been to those towns before and I’m happy to be back commuting, reading books, buying bread or assorted pastries. Just last night I dreamt I was back in Sheffield and the first order of business was ride the tram to Meadowhall, listening to Iggy Pop. I woke up mumbling the song.

I can’t claim to be his biggest fan, but the man can put a real show, and he was a key part of the soundtrack of one of my fave movies of all time, Repo Man. That’s a story for another day.

-Sam J. Valdés López