Picture it: New York City, 1988. I was 13 years old, browsing Nobody Beats the Wiz for the best pack of four, 90-miniute TDK cassette tapes that I could afford. Because I had a big weekend ahead. A big weekend of mixtape making.
I had one to make for my best friend’s birthday, one for my “boyfriend’s” return from camp (who, I was soon to learn, found a new “girlfriend” at said camp — had I known this, my tape would have taken on an entirely different tone), and one for my sister, who I loved to impress with (and introduce her to) new, “in-the-know” tunes, since was she’s 11 years my senior.
A quick side note for those who are already feeling me: Cassette Store Day is on September 7th. Check out the events and locations and get ready for some serious nostalgia (and swapping, if you still have some of your old mixes). But make sure to ask yourself first, are you truly willing to part with that piece of personal history?
The mixtape was such an intimate, powerful piece of art: a collection of songs, as recorded by you, for a particular purpose and person — an inexpensive way to send a loving (or no-so-loving) message and share music with a friend. It was like being a DJ, in your own home, at a station with no particular format. What could be more wonderful?
Plus, as TueNight project manager, Adrianna, points out, “listening to the songs in order, created a (nearly) one-hour narrative. Also, the handwriting of the song names was crucial. It wasn’t a font, it wasn’t consistent, but rather, it was an expression of love, friendship and intimacy expressed with funny doodles, drawings and curlicues.”
It’s so true: Making a mixtape, as time consuming as it could be, was such a wonderfully creative mode of expression. Pulling tracks onto an iTunes folder just isn’t. At all.
Personally, I was obsessed with getting the songs to blend into each other as seamlessly as possible (I had a record/pause button technique that was right on the money). I also loved adding fun tidbits from TV (what we would now call “Easter Eggs”) in between tunes at unexpected places. Most often, they came from Late Night with David Letterman (the groundbreaking, 12:30am NBC broadcast, mind you — old school Dave, with his Monkey Cams and full-body Velcro suits), which I recorded directly from my TV speaker, and then placed strategically in between songs when I felt the flow needed a quick, unexpected jolt of levity.
And the naming of the mix? That was quite the endeavor. If it was uninspired — oh, the shame! My worst ever was “Phat Jamz ’91,” (I was really pressed for time!) and I could see my best friend’s disappointment when she saw the label, expecting something much more clever from me. I blamed the PSATs and we moved on (thankfully).
[pullquote]While some tapes make you feel love, or melancholy, this one absolutely makes me feel like I’m sitting in his living room again, petting a cat and eating spaghetti.”[/pullquote]
TueNight founder, Margit, recalled some more mixtape naming memories
“My favorite tape names were, ‘Lou Reed Doesn’t Suck,’ ‘Let Me Ride on the Wall of Death 32 Times: A Tape in Honor of my Birthday’ and ‘Thanks for Lunch.’ Mixtapes were the love letters of my 20s. I couldn’t date a boy if he didn’t make me a mixtape or listen to the ones I gave him. They took patience, love and truly meant something.”
Margit also makes another key point in her piece about mixtapes from the ’90s: “Sometimes the best, most meaningful titles, were the simplest ones, like when someone just says, ‘These are a few of my favorite songs.’ A friend, recently transplanted to Texas, created one of my favorite mixes after he moved: ‘Stuff I Was Listening To While Making Dinner.’ While some tapes make you feel love, or melancholy, this one absolutely makes me feel like I’m sitting in his living room again, petting a cat and eating spaghetti.”
I think all of us at TueNight could write pages about how much we loved the mixtape and what they meant to us. I even found a fun, virtual mixtape cassette generator, which simply allows you pick a tape model, choose a font, and give it a name with the handwriting style of your choice. Here’s my Masterpiece. Click on the cassette for a little fun.
Still, it’s not the same. I’d do anything to travel back in time, pop in a blank TDK or Maxell cassette, and a spend a day making a mix, creating a cover flap, and thinking about that best friend, boyfriend, or sibling whom I loved enough to put together a musical piece of art. Just for them.
What are your favorite mixtape memories? Most used songs, best creative cover flaps, anything at all? Please share!