Some time ago, Mr. Bitner sent out a call for entries for a book he was editing. Bitner is one of the more inspiring characters I know, simply because he's always working on smart new projects. (Plus, we have this thing where we start each e-mail or phone call by saying each other's last name, which I enjoy.) Anyway, the book, Cassette From My Ex, will be out next week. My friends Vincent and Jen each have a piece in the book, as do I. It's a collection of stories of mix tapes from erstwhile loves, and if you are into music and/or tales of lost love, it should hold some appeal.
As time goes on, I think the era of the tape will become "lost" to the generation that embraced them. The media sound quality fades after awhile, tape seems to lack the physical nostalgia that vinyl possesses, and as yet, there isn't a very easy way to transfer the stuff into a more robust digital format. It feels like we're on the cusp of having enough perspective to see what tapes meant and what they could do (did?), as well as notice that a lot of stuff on tape will just fade away, remembered fondly but lost to the dustbin of history. So, yeah, I'd say that "Cassette From My Ex," holds some appeal.
It's interesting to see how the concept of mix-making has forever changed. There's something beautiful and warm about a faded tape, though. And I love the idea of the tape withering over time. It makes the initial gift more symbolic and special when it ages with us.