Music used to arrive with a person attached
Something I miss about how we used to find music is that it so often came as a gift from someone. A friend would drop the needle on exactly the right track. Somebody made you a tape. Played you a song in the car. Loaned you a CD. Cued up a record at a party and watched the mood of the whole room change. An older cousin had a collection they couldn't wait to show you. The cool friend heard the next big band before anyone else did.
Songs moved from one of us to the next. Because of that, a song usually showed up already carrying a face, a setting and a memory. There are songs I still can't hear without being pulled straight back somewhere: a dorm kitchen at 3 a.m., the scratchy carpet in my grandpa's living room, that club, that exact moment.
1. The algorithm knows my taste. My friends know my story.
Finding new music has never been simpler. I can ask for something fresh and an algorithm will serve up hours of songs tuned to my taste in seconds. I can Shazam a track playing in a store. It's incredible. It just doesn't come with any connection.
An algorithm might know I love a certain artist. A friend remembers the song we wore out on a road trip twenty years ago. The algorithm knows my listening history. A friend knows who I was at seventeen.
2. Why I'm reviving the mixtape
Not the actual cassette, although who else remembers those tiny track-list cards and how satisfying it was to fill them in? I'm reviving the idea behind it. The rules are easy:
- Pick one person.
- Take turns choosing a theme.
- Send each other a single song at a time.
- Wait for theirs to show up.
Themes I've tried so far:
- Songs that take me right back to 17.
- Songs with "rain" somewhere in them.
- Songs for dancing around the kitchen.
- Songs that carried us through something hard.
- Songs with spoken parts we can recite word for word.
3. Every stage of life has a soundtrack
A surprising part of getting older is how long your soundtrack gets. At 20, a song takes you back to last summer. By midlife, a single track can hold an entire earlier version of you. Three and a half minutes, and suddenly you can picture the jacket you wore, the person you had a crush on and exactly what a friend's parents' den looked like in 1989.
Music is a doorway back to the selves we don't live in every day anymore. Revisiting them can be funny, touching, a little embarrassing and unexpectedly helpful. Aging can keep us focused on who we're turning into. Music tends to remind us how many people we've already been.
So here's this week's Joyspan experiment. Pick your person. Pick a theme. Share a single song (just one, not a whole playlist) and explain why you picked it. Then wait for their reply track.
Maybe the modern mixtape was never really about the music. Maybe it's just one more reason to keep getting to know the people who are already in our lives.
What's the first song you'd send, and who would get it? I'd love to hear. As always, you can email me at rebekah@mpowder.store.
Why We Need Mixtapes Again
Music used to arrive with a person attached
Something I miss about how we used to find music is that it so often came as a gift from someone. A friend would drop the needle on exactly the right track. Somebody made you a tape. Played you a song in the car. Loaned you a CD. Cued up a record at a party and watched the mood of the whole room change. An older cousin had a collection they couldn't wait to show you. The cool friend heard the next big band before anyone else did.
Songs moved from one of us to the next. Because of that, a song usually showed up already carrying a face, a setting and a memory. There are songs I still can't hear without being pulled straight back somewhere: a dorm kitchen at 3 a.m., the scratchy carpet in my grandpa's living room, that club, that exact moment.
1. The algorithm knows my taste. My friends know my story.
Finding new music has never been simpler. I can ask for something fresh and an algorithm will serve up hours of songs tuned to my taste in seconds. I can Shazam a track playing in a store. It's incredible. It just doesn't come with any connection.
An algorithm might know I love a certain artist. A friend remembers the song we wore out on a road trip twenty years ago. The algorithm knows my listening history. A friend knows who I was at seventeen.
2. Why I'm reviving the mixtape
Not the actual cassette, although who else remembers those tiny track-list cards and how satisfying it was to fill them in? I'm reviving the idea behind it. The rules are easy:
Themes I've tried so far:
3. Every stage of life has a soundtrack
A surprising part of getting older is how long your soundtrack gets. At 20, a song takes you back to last summer. By midlife, a single track can hold an entire earlier version of you. Three and a half minutes, and suddenly you can picture the jacket you wore, the person you had a crush on and exactly what a friend's parents' den looked like in 1989.
Music is a doorway back to the selves we don't live in every day anymore. Revisiting them can be funny, touching, a little embarrassing and unexpectedly helpful. Aging can keep us focused on who we're turning into. Music tends to remind us how many people we've already been.
So here's this week's Joyspan experiment. Pick your person. Pick a theme. Share a single song (just one, not a whole playlist) and explain why you picked it. Then wait for their reply track.
Maybe the modern mixtape was never really about the music. Maybe it's just one more reason to keep getting to know the people who are already in our lives.
What's the first song you'd send, and who would get it? I'd love to hear. As always, you can email me at rebekah@mpowder.store.