It started with a backseat. The sensation of being driven places as a child in a backseat, the furtive amorous histories begun in a backseat — and the memory of Abraham Cruzvillegas’ first schoolboy crush for a woman who sold tortillas in his Mexico City neighborhood — these were the inspirations behind a song the artist wrote roughly six years ago.
“It was about a Ford Galaxy wagon from 1969,” he says. Adding, with a mischievous smile: “It wasn’t a coincidence that it was a ‘69.”
The backseat serves as an important point of departure in