I've long said I'm an evangelist when it comes to music. Few things give me more pleasure than passing along good music I've discovered one way or another. I've made hundreds, if not a thousand or two, mixes for friends in the last twenty-five years or so. A good majority, I'll boast, have been received well (though I remember years ago a student asking me to exchange tapes with him; he was a rough hockey player, so the tape I made him was pretty loud and clangorous; imagine my surprise and oops factor when he gave me a tape filled with James Taylor and John Denver songs).
When I first started making tapes in the mid-eighties, like some anal DJ I'd actually write out the track lists first, with running times, to be sure I could fit the selected songs on each side of the tape. There's nothing like adding up a bunch of time numbers (3:43 + 4:18 + 2:37 etc.). Then I'd line up the albums (vinyl only in those days) and follow the script. Either the crazy math got to me or I finally saw the light of intuitive feel, but soon enough I'd just gather up a bunch of albums and start assembling the tape by feel, which is the true way to go. You might think you'll play a certain song by a certain artist after the one you're currently taping, but midway through the song you realize, no, another song by a totally different artist will segue more perfectly. And so on. That's probably the main difference: in today's click and drag world, you don't have to/get to actually listen to the songs you're putting on tape/disc--you simply compile them. Sure you can look at the list of songs you've assembled and play with the sequence, but nothing beats the immediate inspiration of hearing a line or riff or whatever and instantly thinking of another song that will complement the first one, or comment on it, or send the tape off into a completely different direction--flow or soul, basically. Organic vs. robotic.
Time, as usual, is a main factor. Now you can compile a mix in a matter of minutes: click on twenty songs, order them with minimal thought, insert disc, click burn, and voila. To make a ninety minute mixtape way back when took nearly two hours to create. You not only gave the other person great music, but your precious time, as well. And speaking of time, ask any tape maker from the heyday of mixtapes and he or she can instantly rattle off a dozen or two tape-enders, those short, minute or so songs you'd squeeze in at the end of a tape side (and oh the nervous thrill of seeing if/praying that your chosen shortie [say, "Run It" by the Replacements, at 1:12 one of my favorite go to tape-enders] would fit before the tape ran out).
Space is another element lost with technology. Being anything but a neatnick, I remember fondly the stacked lines of CDs and albums that would clutter around my stereo system while I was in the midst of a mixtape binge. Now it's just a clutter of playlists clogging my desktop. Ho hum.
Ho hum, here's a mix for you, nothing more than a little more carpal tunnel syndrome damage in it for me. As opposed to, here, here's two hours of my life, an aerobic workout for my ears and synapses, clutter endured, and heartfelt tiny penmanship (lest we forget the easy, print-the-playlist option vs. the challenge of writing out the entire playlist in cramped but hopefully still legible handwriting between the minuscule lines of the already small cardboard tape insert)--here's a piece of my soul, basically.
Which only proves I'm old, but at least I've got an idea for another great theme mix: anybody interested in a Luddite mix?
He's Making a Tape--Wild Billy Childish and the Musicians of the British Empire by spitoutyourgumblog
You are not just an evangelist, you are my music guru! Hey guru, wasn't I supposed to be receiving one of the above mentioned mixes in my new Akron address? hehe. Oh by the way, there is a song by odetta in the music issue of Oxford American.
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