All Mixed Up
Whither mix tapes? I used to spend an inordinate amount of time thinking up, recording, and designing art work for mix tapes (they were called J cards, in case you’re curious). I did it to woo women, to extend friendships, and to hopefully expand someone else’s musical landscape. The best part was when someone I had given a mix tape to cared enough to return the favor. Most of the time, they didn’t, but it hardly mattered. I was sharing my music with someone. Who among us doesn’t love to do that?
This kind of musical nerdity is the hallmark of the person gifted with both a sincere love of music and a relatively good ear, but with little of the intrinsic talent that real musicians possess. I believe they call us fans. Fans with a desire to, in some way, be their own musical artist and producer.
I loved tapes. Still do. I have a couple of big boxes of them, and I simply don’t know what to do with them. I suppose I will toss them eventually. I keep trying to get myself on a schedule to convert them to digital recordings. I don’t want to actually convert them, I simply want to re-get them, whether that means buying them as digital recordings or stealing them off of the Internet. I’ve already bought them at least once (I can’t tell you how many additional copies of albums I’ve bought over the years), so I don’t have any compunction against pirating a digital copy of a cassette tape I already have purchased. No regrets, no excuses. My plan of action is to pull out one cassette tape every week and make it my goal to find or purchase a digital replacement of it. I should have it all converted in a few years.
But what of those mix tapes my favorite friends have made for me? I can’t simply buy (or steal) those. I could try to convert them from cassette to digital, and I might at some point resort to that, but I will certainly, undeniably lose the flavor and mystique of the original, even if I scan in the homemade artwork and liner notes.
Once I moved on from cassette tapes to CD — I was not an early adopter; I resisted mightily — I learned how to make CD insert artwork and burn CDs, and I eventually entered another golden era of making mixes. But these days, I hate CDs. It’s becoming harder and harder to make CDs for friends and family. I make a CD every year for Henry’s birthday, but my rate of making CDs has plummeted this past year. My Photoshop artwork templates are barely used. My X-Acto knife sits safely in a cupboard. I have tossed all of those wretched jewel boxes. I even gave away all of my old CDs. Fuck ‘em.
I’m still stuck with the urge to create and share a mix. I’ve been collecting a playlist of songs for someone, but I don’t know what to do with that playlist. I can burn a CD, but why not simply set them up with a download of it? I could gift it to them via iTunes, but how might my personality shine through? I’m not just a digital DJ. I’m a seriously thoughtful amateur DJ, meticulously tailoring a set of songs to help promote a mood and present a point of view, as subtly and effectively as possible. How do I learn a new and innovative way to do that?
On top of all this anxiety, I have an added smidgeon of performance anxiety about mixes. Adding comedy clips and interstitials doesn’t seem to be enough anymore. I feel like I need to step up my game and make something even more unique. Do I need to start doing man-on-the-street interviews that fit my mix-tape them and include them? Must I be as good as a “This American Life” episode?
Well, I want to be.
What is the next way to accommodate this urge to evolve the way I create and share music? How, with all of these creative tools at my disposal, many of which I haven’t begun to learn, should I proceed?
I’ll probably just wing it. It’ll probably be good, too.
