Mix Tape Me, Baby

Whatever became of the mix tape?

(Okay, I’ll concede, most of my “tapes” were actually cds).

In the days before IPods and Pandora when a boy liked a girl (or thought she had cool taste in music) he would painstakingly devise a playlist of songs.  Some she would definitely like; some he liked; some he hoped she’d like; some he wanted her to glean a deeper meaning from; some just because they rocked.

I’ve thought of the mix tape often as I move through my twenties.

For my birthday I received two mix tapes as gifts.  Both were from men I’ve dated. Both of these men are awesomely artistic (one filmmaker, one musician) with incredible taste in music.  Neither one was meant to convey romantic love, but still, they were sent with love.

It’s been a long time since anyone made me a mix tape with the intention of impressing me or striking my fancy.  But the ghosts of musical romancing past still reside in my cds (and now my ITunes).  Each song, each mix, is a musical diary of my past relationships.

Remember the boy who painstakingly found the bootleg of a live Counting Crows concert that happened in Denver because you were homesick and living in Chicago at the time and he knew about your crush on Adam Duritz?

Or the hippie-turned-raver who made a mix that started with The Grateful Dead and ended with a bunch of techno but was peppered with a soft sweet Tori Amos cover and Billy Joel’s Always A Woman (his song for me).

The punk with the tattooed sleeves and unfortunate man-candy piercing who dedicated every emo song he could find.

My first boyfriend in high school who thought every Dave Matthews Band song was written about us?

These are the men of my youth and the soundtrack to my love life.

But like my retainer and my dreadlocks and wearing a size 0 (yes really), all good things must come to an end.  No one’s given me a mix tape since I entered the space of two decades.  I think it’s high time the mix tape made it’s triumphant return into my love love.  I mean, if the members only jacket can make a comeback, surely the mix tape can recover from dormancy.

Make her a mix tape men–or at least an ITunes playlist.

Tags: , , , , , , , ,

2 Responses to “Mix Tape Me, Baby”

  1. Red Says:

    I’ve never been given a mix tape.
    I have however made the most amazing mix tape of all time and I gave it to my boyfriend two years ago who gave it to his best friend who played it for me last year when we were…er..not dating.
    He jokes that the mix tape got passed around in the same fashion I did; maybe someday that will be more funny. Right now, not so much.

    Also, mix tapes can be deal breakers.
    I knew when I was dating a certain recent boy that he had too much involvement with another lady when he had like 290375928465 mix tapes from her in his living room. obsess much? ew.

  2. Leah Says:

    Mix tapes should never be passed around.

    You however? Everyone should get a crack at because, DAMN!

    Unless they’re douchebags in which case I will cut them in your honor.

Leave a Reply