Pitchfork

They say it's not a "best of Galaxie 500" disc. Who is they? People. Who is people? They're the same people who never even listen to Galaxie 500 in the first place. Now we're getting somewhere!

Sorry, but the brain reels after a few hits of Galaxie 500. From the ears to the brain to a slow, shimmering sensation that overtakes the nerves, this late-80s/early-90s trio defined dream-pop. Sure, Dean Wareham eventually went on to form Luna while Damon and Naomi stayed Damon and Naomi, but their ethereal college sound, sprung from the roots of The Velvet Underground, fired up many a somber musician. Galaxie 500 waded deep into melancholy and made a home for themselves. Or, to put it a little less pretentiously, a friend of mine from the college radio days compared their sound to "thick water flowing over glass." Indeed, this is some of the headiest, yet simplest, music you'll ever hear.

The Portable Galaxie 500 tables a few deserving tracks in favor of a few lesser ones, and without naming names, I think fans will know what I'm talking about. Vague nitpicking aside, it's a pleasant mix. An alternate version of "Blue Thunder" kicks us deep into the current of Wareham's guitar fetish-- he likes to make it hollow and clean before dipping it into brittle, echoing taser blasts. It's meatier than it sounds-- in fact, there's way more meat here than your average three-piece should be allowed.

And speaking of allowed, who allowed the Yoko Ono cover to be sliced from the idea pie? And where's "Hearing Voices"? Okay, I named names, but it's all part of the fun of Galaxie 500. Pick one up, take it home, drink a lot of vodka, and make fun of it. In the morning, you'll regret everything to the point of offering the compilation cash for sexual favors. Which, of course, is when it's time for a shower and some aspirins. When you've finally sobered up, take it for what it is: soul deep, indie strong, as beautiful as night, and twice as cold.