The Mix Tape

I'd like to think that most of us have caught up with and are currently living in the very modern age of technology. I'd like to think that most of us take advantage of it. Sure, there are always exceptions, but on the whole it seems that if something becomes available-- especially if that technology involves music, people jump. It's like the iPod. Didn't see that coming, despite my unhappiness with one of those early portable CD players that skipped if I breathed too hard. Storing an entire life's worth of albums in a space the size of a credit card, if not smaller, is pure brilliance, and hearing it all shuffled together in an new invigorating order is ground breaking too...right? Everything's has got it's roots.

Lucky me, I recently was given a mix CD by someone with some local artists and such. "Cool stuff." "Favorite stuff." Granted it is very cool and I plan on listening to it frequently along with my other great loves, but it got me thinking about something. The classic mix tape has been around since somebody figured out it could be done due to lack of vinyl. Great for road trips, unfortunately used as poor excuses for birthday presents...the perfect mix tape is an art form that is either great or sucks. I haven't seen them around that much lately. I remember days when kids would jam the locking mechanism on their CD player and hit play so they could make Sharpie art on the label. It's been years since the last time I saw that. CDs are not long for this world. Mixes are now playlists, so how does that impact the fate of such glorious musical indulgence? They're kind of fun. It's like taking a peek into someone's head, into their way of thinking. The intrigue is endless. Being the perfect example of "it's the thought that counts," scanning a playlist on a tiny screen on someone's mp3 player just doesn't color the way a mysterious mix tape does. It's a tangible piece of personality when ambiguity is rampant in our species. I wonder if the playlist threatens to usurp the mix in a way that will make us even less connected with each other, designing playlists for ourselves and slowly forgetting to burn a copy for a friend.

Maybe I'm barking up the wrong tree, and I'm not saying they're gone, but I've found that it's an accumulation of the small changes that morph the bigger picture. If you're going to make a mix, do it well, and give it to someone who'll appreciate it. To the good person responsible for my mix. Thanks.