It's Hispanic Heritage Month. And, well, fuck it. I'm Hispanic. More specifically, I'm Salvadoran. I've spent years writing about music, books, science, and whatever else is on my mind, and I almost never talk about this part of myself. Here's the thing that makes it stranger: for a lot of people, music is where heritage lives loudest. It's the songs playing in the kitchen and the sounds that mean home before you can explain why. That isn't really how it went for me. The Music I Grew Up On The music I grew up on was rock, mostly. Later came metal, then hip hop and reggae. Barely any of it was Spanish music. So my relationship to my heritage and my relationship to music have mostly run on separate tracks. I'm Salvadoran, and the soundtrack of my life has been guitars, distortion, and beats that came from other places. Both things are true, and I'm still figuring out what to make of that. Being Mixed, Being Hard to Categorize My heritage is m...