Side A

​If you're a regular reader of this blog, you may have gathered that I have a slight interest in records. As I was listening to one last week, I realised that I'd never actually replaced the stylus of that particular record player. I'm all for authenticity, but that had been there since 1979. ​

Once the practically had been dealt with and I knew there was a replacement one on its way in the post, I turned to the problem of how to continue listening. I finally relented and dug out my amp and turntable. For the Audiophiles, my listening choice is a 970 Philips Stereo Combo, as I like the way it sits there with its fake wood look. You can imagine how horrified I was when the turntable didn't work either. A piece of wire had come loose. Well it had come away from the gaffa tape, the universal go to for temporary measures. Tape aside, I couldn't help but see the irony, as this was supposed to be the reliable one, that one bit of kit that you wouldn't have to tap the back of to get the left speaker working again. So I did the only thing remaining. I got my tapes out, and how beautifully pleased I was.

Obviously I'm not going to start advocating tapes, they were naturally a bedfellow of vinyl, but their perfect union can be personified by two terms; 'The Mixtape' and 'Home taping is killing music.' 

Let's look at the Mixtape. I know you remember them and no doubt a myriad of memories have started flooding back, and it was exactly the same for me. It was the personal touch, only your choice of tune, the perfect place for that song to sit and what it should follow. Whether you taped them off the radio or put your favourites together, it was the soundtrack of your choosing, and every one of those C90s embedded memories deep into your core. Everyone hears a song, and is then perplexed that the song they're expecting next doesn't come on. As that confusion builds, you're immersed in that time when you had played DJ with that song, and it's only when reality bumps into you, do you realise how much time has passed between you playing or making that tape and hearing that song again. ​

Then, for the more serious listener, you could record a whole album. Not only could you experience the luxury of listening to that record without having to get up and put the other side on, but armed with this C90, you get another one on. This meant that you could take your records out of the house for the first time, where you could play them as loudly as you wanted and no one would sit on them. ​

While the world of vinyl was theoretically revived with Record Store day (It never went away) they are trying to do the same with cassettes. It just won't work, as you instantly loose that personal touch. You don't get any song titles that are written in different coloured pens, or any other low-fi embellishments like stickers or hand drawn stars. You occasionally got an exclamation mark. ​

Whatever your viewpoint, these cassettes contained ninety glorious minutes of music that was either your choice, or lovingly made for you. The picture should tell you this, and I deem myself one of the luckiest man in the world to have these in my possession. Not only because I still own it seventeen years after it was recorded, but the time and effort put in by my best friend instantly highlights how much a person actually cares for you. I still have this over the countless birthday cards I have recycled. 

Which brings me to the reason of why this blog was late. I have been playing tapes. But not just playing tapes. ​​​