The Lost Art of the Mix Tape

Nostalgia is a difficult thing, because there can be both good and bad in it. I walk a fine line whenever I think back to the old days, because sometimes it refreshes the spirit, and yet sometimes it poisons the soul. 

I do, however, have no qualms about revisiting one of the most sacred rituals of my youth—the blessed mix tape. 

My son rolls his eyes when I mention this, saying, "Yes, old man, we now call them playlists." 

No, young man, that is hardly the same thing. The mix tape was an act of love, which was far more than the sum of some tunes you lazily strung together. There was hard work involved. You had to dust off the vinyl, set the stylus just right, and constantly check the levels. 

You chose your songs wisely, since it wasn't just a matter of clicking and dragging with your mouse. You looked deep inside, and you asked yourself how your picks reflected everything about who you were. 

The mix tape was a total expression of all you held dear. To give someone a mix tape had almost the same weight as a marriage proposal. There was a profound art to it. 

I made at least fifty of them for the lost love of my life in college, though I now suspect they were only played when I happened to be around. 

I later fell for an artsy and bohemian girl, and I spent three whole days compiling her first tape. 

I'm fairly sure all of those cassettes are now in some landfill, but the memory of creating them is far more vivid to me than any image of their faces. 

During my Wilderness Years, I had no friends, so I compensated by making mix tapes for myself, including a set I planned to listen to on a final trip to my homeland of Austria, where I somehow intended to die on a mountaintop. While I never made that trip, those four tapes remain some of my most prized possessions. 

One day, I finally met a nice girl, and I had one last opportunity to do a final mix tape. I knew it would be the last one, for the CD had finally replaced the cassette as the way we listened to music; there was absolutely no romance in burning a CD. The young lady, however, still strolled around with a Walkman, and that was my way to her heart. 

Men are such pathetic creatures, right? Especially the sentimental ones. 

I stayed up all night putting this one together. The trick was always to hand it over like it was no big deal, even as I was completely twitterpated. 

I eventually married that woman, and who I am now would be impossible without her. The tape sits on our dresser, next to an ancient boom box I keep only for the purpose of playing that one darn tape. 

To this day, the ideas and values expressed in my musical choices are a source of pride. If you want to figure out who I really am, this collection will give you a good clue. 

• • • • • 

Crowded House, "Weather with You", from Woodface (1991) 

Julius Caesar, and the Roman Empire, 

Couldn't conquer the blue sky. 

Blur, "London Loves", from Parklife (1994) 

And words are cheap when the mind is elastic. 

Capercaillie, "Claire in Heaven", from To the Moon (1995) 

Up here I see a new tomorrow. 

Level 42, "Play Me", from Forever Now (1994) 

All the women of my dreams, 
Were the kind who lived beyond my means. 

Kevin Gilbert, "Goodness Gracious", from Thud (1995) \

Goodness Gracious not many people care,
Concern is getting scarcer, true compassion really rare. 

Bela Fleck and the Flecktones, "Sunset Road", from Bela Fleck and the Flecktones (1990) 

October Project, "Something More than This", from Falling Farther In (1995) 

Whatever you fear,
Whatever you hide,
Whatever you carry deep inside,
There's something more than this. 

Donald Fagen, "Countermoon", from Kamakiriad (1993) 

At every pay phone
There's somebody cryin'. 

Thomas Dolby, "Close but No Cigar", from Astronauts & Heretics (1992) 

I remember, I remember, I remember
The promise in your eyes,
As black as the night I drove you to the airport. 

Echolyn, "One for the Show", from As the World (1995) 

As the world shakes it on down,
Some learn to dance and others just drown. 

Marillion, "Dry Land", from Holidays in Eden (1991) 

In all the tine that I've known you, 

You've been so edgy and nervous. 

Swing Out Sister, "Don't Let Yourself Down", from The Living Return (1994) 

Trust in love and you'll have no regrets. 

King's X, "The Train", from Ear Candy (1996) 

Don't try to take the ride, sit back and let it rain. 

Paul Weller, "Round and Round", from Paul Weller (1992) 

Movin' up to collect our prizes,
Sinkin' fast into life's surprises. 

Clannad, "From Your Heart", from Lore (1996) 

Wise beyond your years,
Made my life more worthy now. 

Spock's Beard, "Waste Away", from Beware of Darkness (1996) 

Some people are like gravy
Spilled on God's Sunday shirt. 

Jamiroquai, "Virtual Insanity", from Traveling Without Moving (1996) 

And it's a wonder men can eat at all,
When things are big that should be small. 

Phish,  "Down with Disease", from Hoist (1994) 

Waiting for the time when I can finally say: 
This has all been wonderful, but now I'm on my way. 

Peter Gabriel, "Steam", from Us (1992) 

You know your culture from your trash, 
You know your plastic from your cash. 

Iona, "Irish Day", from Journey Into the Morn (1996) 

It is here that time has granted, 
That the light should still burn on. 

And just for a lark, here's a YouTube mix of the entire bloody thing: 

https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLRvgjypMPqhpHn75gN1oJLOzxIafUxGfc