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My wife and I are clearing out our big Victorian house in Randolph, Vermont. The house was originally built in 1905 and is three stories tall with about 3000 square feet of space. We have reached the proverbial “empty nesters” stage of life with the last of our three kids on the verge of moving out this weekend. It’s bittersweet for sure. We always wanted them to become successful, independent adults, but walking by those empty rooms yields a sense of nostalgia. We have a rough plan for downsizing to a smaller house, but many pieces have to fall in place to make that happen. One thing is for sure, there is no way we can, or should, take all of our current belongings with us.
Anne calls to me from upstairs, “Jon. I think this box is yours.” I climbed up to the third floor, ducking instinctively as I negotiated the oddly configured third floor staircase that was not designed for anyone over 4 foot 6 inches tall. I pulled the cardboard box over to one of the twin beds, sat down and took off the cover. It was like being transported back 40 years. I was staring down at my own handwriting on the labels of about 50 or 60 cassette tapes. I browsed through the labels and even though my musical tastes have broadened over time, I saw many artists I still listen to - Allman Brothers, John Hiatt, Bob Marley, Paul Simon. I also noted a few that I had forgotten about over the years and made note of them.
In my head I knew that I should be throwing these tapes into the trash, but my heart was telling me something different. After all, I haven’t owned any kind of cassette deck in years and honestly I wasn’t sure this box of tapes still existed. The partner box (or maybe it was boxes) hadn’t survived a previous purge. After all, I have fully embraced the digital music format. In my pocket, I have access to literally millions of songs via my music app. That is, provided I have a good internet connection and my phone is working.
It was somewhat of a quirk of fate that I became a cassette afficianado. For some reason, when I bought my first stereo back in the late 70s when I was probably a sophomore in high school, I went with a cassette player and not a turntable. Back in elementary school, I had started with one of those portable cassette players that had a single built-in speaker (terrible sound quality), but that meant I already had the beginnings of a collection of albums on cassette. If memory serves, I had Close to the Edge by Yes, a couple of Elton John albums (Honky Chateau and Don’t Shoot the Piano Player) and maybe something by the Rolling Stones. I also had Toys in the Attic by Aerosmith and that was the first album I played on my new stereo once I had it set up. I’m sure this was much to the horror of my parents who were both professional classical musicians.
I did eventually get a turntable and a few LPs, but nothing beat the convenience of the cassette (that is until the time that the car player would “eat” the tape and you would gingerly pull it out, trailing the thin brown tape still hung up in the guts of the player). Then I discovered the art of recording albums. I probably saw this as a great cost-saving innovation. All I had to do is buy a few multi-packs of 90 minute blank cassettes and then borrow albums from friends for a few days of recording. My “go to” brands of blank tapes were TDK and Maxell. If you are somewhat near my age, you won’t have to use too much imagination to recreate the Maxell tape ad where the black-clad, very laid back dude is reclined in a chair positioned in front of a speaker. The music is literally blowing his long hair straight back from his head like a strong wind. I can see you nodding your head as you think back to that heyday of music recording.
The box of tapes at my feet represented dozens, maybe hundreds, of hours of effort. Making all of these tapes had been a labor of love. The idea of just tossing them in the trash was really hard to contemplate. It would be like throwing a piece of me away. The practical part of me knows that I’m not going to keep them around, taking up space in all of our future residences. I have a brief future vision of me ushering guests through our modest home after getting them a beverage of choice. “And over here are the last remaining cassettes I labored over in my teens and early 20s. Note how much care went into labeling them and getting all the song titles squeezed onto the small paper insert. Note the musical genre and artist diversity. Now, over here is my Monet.” No. That won’t be how things play out.
I love Spotify. Don’t get me wrong. But there was something about the art of making tapes. Like having the realization that there are a few seconds of leader before the recordable part of the tape starts. After a couple of mis-steps, it just became a habit to let a few seconds of tape roll before I started recording. The mix tapes were really my prize possession. Essentially, you were playing DJ for yourself, figuring out which songs would go together well. For now, there are a half dozen of these mixes I have held onto so I can reproduce them as a Spotify list. I did finally convince myself to let go of the regular albums I had taped, although I did jot down a few artists I had forgotten about - how could I not have any Joan Armatrading on my Spotify lists? And what about Sonia Dada? I really liked them at one point. I wondered if they might be like some of the old books I’ve tried to re-read. At least a couple of times I have gone back to what was an old favorite and only made it maybe a dozen pages in before saying, “why did I like this book?” I suppose we don’t remain the same beings we were back in high school and college. We evolve. Tastes change. We get shaped by life and world events. We listen to new music.
So, now I’ve gone almost entirely digital with my music collection. I take my phone out of my pocket, unlock it and find the Spotify app. I open one of my 20 or so playlists - Folksy, Bluesy, Rockin’ Out, Jam Bands - scroll through the songs and hit play. If a particular song isn’t striking my fancy I just remove it with a couple of taps. I can always search for and re-add it later if I change my mind. In high school and college I couldn’t even have dreamed of this technology. I wish I had dreamed of it and found a software engineer to work with, then I could have retired quite a few years ago instead of just recently.
There will always be a part of me that feels like it has all become just a little too easy. I wonder what we have lost now that no one has to make sure that the needle gets dropped in just the right groove with the tape deck paused and ready to start. No longer do you have to work on your handwriting and add your own personal touch to that mix tape for yourself or someone you care for. Are the new ways always better than the old ones? I’m not sure. Maybe I’ll go search for a cassette deck on ebay.
