Mix Tapes are the Voice of the Soul

Here's an old post I found, dated May 27, 2010...

I'm looking through all the papers listing the tracks of old mix cassettes I have made (I keep documents on all sorts of shit, and hard copies). I have made only one tape for someone I loved, everything else was for friends. I made some crazy awesome mixes. And ya know what? I've still never been given a mix tape. Ever. I guess I just have bad luck with musical exchange.

Looking back on mix tapes is a funny thing. Bringing back old thoughts, emotions, and memories. I remember making my first tape. I was 10, I think? I held up a recorder next to a stereo, calling radio stations requesting songs and waiting hours for them to play. Yeah, I did it the hard, awkward way. I never really gave tapes to anyone. I just used the same cassette, listened to it over and over until I was bored, and then re-recorded over it with new songs.

The kicker is, the one tape I made for a past love was never listened to. It was thrown away directly after giving it to them. Actually, I am listening to the hard copy right now. It's weird reflecting back on it. How subliminal those songs were, yet how strongly they made the point. In a way, I'm glad it was never heard. On the other hand, if only he had known what I was trying to say when I couldn't find words myself. I even put the first song we ever listened to together on it, the song we became friends to, when we realized we related on music, and started getting to know each other because of. On this tape is also a song that he used to sing while playing guitar, when he used to try to impress me.... I digress.

I can't remember who I actually gave my first mix tape to. Or what songs were on it. It was probably to my childhood best friend, Katie, because I know I had made tapes with her before, and honestly, aside from my little sister, she was my only friend growing up. I never was one to be popular, or really have any friends. I didn't start making tapes for friends until I actually had a tape to spare, which came long after I wore out that original recorded tape I re-used for years.

It's outrageous how extinct cassettes are becoming. I have made tapes for people who don't even own cassette players anymore. I went to Target about a year ago looking for blank recordable tapes and the guy working the electronics department said they didn't sell tapes because they haven't been made in years. Yeah, fuck you new-age-iPod-retard. I fucking found a bulk supply at Rainy Day Records of 60 and 90 minute blank Maxells. "They don't make cassettes anymore" MY ASS. Oldschool, see-through, recordable awesomeness.

Like I said, to this day, I have never been given a mix tape. Or a mix CD for that matter. I've made deals with friends before, promising to trade tapes. I always made them a mix, and have yet to get any in return. I don't really mind that much, though. I enjoy making a gift for a friend more than I enjoy receiving. It would be cool if someone made a tape for me, but I like making tapes for others. I have so many mixes I want to share. It's a wonderful feeling, sharing music. Sitting next to the tape deck carefully calculating the timing of each song and hitting the stop button at just the right second. The split second of static from someone stumbling on the buttons while recording, the fact that each song is perfectly planned... Giving or receiving, it's pretty wonderful.

Since writing this, I had a lover that made me several mix CD's. The last CD He made for me was called "Happy on the Outside" right after we broke up. He had a stack of cheap blanks that didn't really work, and tried three times to make me a copy using the same CD's but they were all glitchy and wouldn't play. He said it was because my CD player was stupid, but player played every other CD he ever made me. And sometimes, he'll admit that it was in fact the crappy CD's he was using, only after several shots of Jack Daniels. But he never tried making it for me again after that. I'll never get to hear what was on it, and I didn't write down the track list so I can't go looking it up on my own. Even if I did, I'd still like to have the actual disk, he even made a nice cover to go with it, with a smiley face and a tear drop on it. And so goes my luck...

There was another instance, where I joined an international mixed tape exchange. Several countries were involved. We would write our name and our address and the person in charge would randomly mix up everything, send you a name and address to make a mixed CD for, and then your name and address would be sent to a different random person. I can't remember who I sent my mix to, but I have the CD from the girl that got me as her receiver. I have the letter right here. Her name is Camille. She's from Louisiana. She's 18, and she wants to be a screen writer. She likes jazz and blues, Queen, Bowie, and Micheal Jackson. She has Trent Reznor's guitar pick from a concert she went to. I love the mix she sent me. I wanted to write her back and thank her for the CD and the music, and continue talking to her, but I lost the envelope. I guess I accidentally threw it away and forgot to get her address off it. She cut out a picture of eyes and a mustache to make the CD cover. I'd like to be friends with her one day.

Anybody else have any stories about mix tapes or mix CD's?

Holy crap, I forgot my own medicine.

So I haven't written in a while. There are several reasons for that; A) My computer decided to call it quits, B) My best friend came to visit from out of state, and C) I have just been in a bummer mood and didn't want to write anything negative. There are other reasons, but they really aren't important.

What is important is remembering medicine. I don't mean pharmaceuticals. I haven't been taking my own "medicine."

What I have come to terms to recently is that certain things, as minuscule as they may be, can contribute a great amount to attitudes, moods, and feelings. This is an epiphany I have realized many times before, and have forgotten many times before.

It's that thing that can reverse your bad mood in a split second, and you don't even mean it to. That thing that just happens to make everything better, even if just for a temporal moment.

Tonight, I was given a dose of my old medicine. I went to the bar for a single drink, in a crappy mood, and planned to leave as soon as it was done. And I did just that; I went in a bad mood and had one drink, and then just before I left, the bartender did something awesome. He put on some Iron Maiden. It was like a switch in me, I went from bad to good just like *snap* that.

It was like I was reminded of the things I love the most. I love heavy metal, but I haven't recently been listening to it. And maybe, JUST MAYBE, that has been one of the reasons for me being bummed out; forgetting the things I like the most.

Either way, I have a few beers in me, and I have a mix of Iron Maiden, Judas Priest, Motorhead, Saxon, Tank, Diamond Head, and more playing, and I really doubt it's the beers that are making the difference. (If you know me, you know.)

Tonight, my medicine was listening to the music I always loved but had neglected for a while. It truly helped me feel better. Tomorrow, maybe my medicine will be something else. I might even bake the cookie recipe I have been wanting to try out, and that might be my medicine for the day. I haven't been baking recently either. I haven't even been painting! It comes in different forms, you know. But I have what I need for now.

I dare anyone, everyone, to backtrack to the last time you were excited about something. Something that doesn't correlate to another person. A reason you were happy on your own and why. Not because of a job, or a new apartment, or a date. Like the last time you really got excited by yourself. Was it discovering a new band? Was it finding a new place to eat that suited your dietary needs? Was it finding that album that you haven't been necessarily looking for, but were super stoked on finding by chance? Feel that again.

Feel this again!

The Good, the Bad, the Oly.

I come from an unfortunately small town (Olympia, WA), and I detest it with all my might, but refuse to move elsewhere. I suppose, one could say it isn’t that I refuse to move, it’s just that I am comfortable enough here not to. I have such mixed feelings about this place, let me explain: 

(Olympia's finest, which hasn't been brewed in Olympia since 2003) 

 

I grow increasingly irritated at the town I live in because of its predominant hipster mentality that seems to be so infectious (I saw a poor little southern girl get enveloped within only a few months of moving here, so sad...). This mentality is insestual and passive, and rather aggravating. Most of the people that live here are college transplants (we have three colleges), or people that moved from some other similar community because they wanted something “different” but didn't want change. The people here seem to all like to sleep with each other and think it’s all fine and dandy. Sexual freedom is fine and dandy, but I’d rather not know that all my friends have had sex with each other, and I certainly don’t feel like discussing how somebody I am currently seeing has slept with any of my friends. I’d actually rather not know that at all. I’m more the monogamist type that likes relationships, but almost every person I know has nearly 5 different sex partners a month. And they all think I’m the one that isn’t open-minded because I don’t sleep with everyone around me. I’m open-minded as hell, I just don’t need to fuck everyone to prove it, and I don’t like being pressured into the idea of sleeping with everyone just to fit in. That just isn’t my thing.

So many people like to pretend to be activists ‘round these parts, but all they are doing is being unnecessarily overly-defensive and talking too much about crap they hardly know about. The girls are all hardcore feminists (with the idealistic wooly mammoth legs), the boys are all void of emotion whilst pretending they are profound philosophers, and everyone is an alcoholic vegan/vegetarian in a crappy band that has no real fans except for their friends, who are also in crappy bands. Nobody is going anywhere in this town that is overcrowded with arrogant twenty-something’s. The few thirty-something year olds that participate in this “thriving” scene are generally still there because they haven’t grown up yet and moved on.

There are too many flannels. I know it’s cold, but Christ. Enough is enough, flannels have a reason and a purpose and it shouldn't be exploited year-round. And the unkempt mustaches! I am a fan of mustaches, I love them, and I think they are amazing, but having a crappy one just to be “ironic” isn’t really that cool, it’s just pretentious, and makes you look fucking stupid. And they’re all misinterpreting irony, too. Did I mention every single person here is a self-proclaimed artist? No, you’re not an artist, douche bag, you just want to call yourself that because you think it makes you unique to be EXACTLY THE SAME as every fucking other liberal arts student around you.

There never seems to be enough PBR around here to keep up with fashion, either. The trend is to look like you are constantly hung-over, and unwashed from a night of coke-snorting, binge-drinking, sex parties, and you must keep this look at all times, no matter the occasion. Weddings? Funerals? Your nephew’s 2^nd birthday? It doesn’t matter, because you didn’t have the time to change into a cleaner 80’s t-shirt (that may as well have nothing to do with you or your life because you were probably born after ‘87 anyways) while you are hurrying off to the co-op to buy a brand of organic coffee that is essentially the same as every other coffee, but it’s cool because it’s organic. And don't forget to add a nice slab of pizza grease to your [always uncombed and asymmetrically-cut] hair, for that extra "I don't give a fuck!" look.

Everybody wants to be angry about something, when there really isn’t anything to be angry about. They always find something to be bitch about, though. Like how some crappy noise band’s latest album totally sounded like they sold out and were getting too mainstream (despite the fact that it still has not signed with any record label). Or they want to be angry at society for being too… Mainstream. Everything is just too mainstream!

And the worst part is that they all want to complain about exactly what I have written here, while simultaneously doing it. Really? REALLY?? STFU AND GTFO!

There is, however, a brighter side of living in a small town. When you have had your flirtations with the scene like I have, you get to know a lot of people and develop many relationships. And in a small town, after having been able to get to know the community, it’s nice to walk down the street and see familiar faces. Aside from the general passive-aggressiveness that radiates in the “drama-free” social groups (“drama-free” is taken with a grain of salt, we all know there is a tremendous amount of drama even if we don’t want to admit it), people still smile and say hi, and ask how you are doing. The town is too small to hold grudges, so you have to learn to get over your shit (or at least pretend to) quickly and play nice.

The music scene isn’t really that bad. For as many fleeting, crappy, alternative music projects going on that last the duration of a semester at most, there are also many quality bands that produce good music worth checking out. Many shows are hit or miss, but the hits make all the misses worth the trouble. And quite a few well-known and semi-well-known bands and artists have their roots in Oly, too (e.g. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Music_of_Olympia).

As mentioned earlier, everybody thinks they are an artist, but they all think that because they are surrounded by so many legitimate artists. Many buildings downtown have murals by local painters, and there is a plethora of art groups and projects going on, and every venue and many restaurants and bars have turned their walls into a display area for local artists, not to mention a gallery on every block. After a saddening closing of a popular west-side art supply store, a couple of Olympia noobs came in and saw the opportunity to open a new business called Olyphant that is thriving harder than anyone could imagine a small business in this economy to, and now has a large building located downtown that also hosts art classes, and is a focal point in the local network of painters, sculptors, inkers, and sketchers alike.

And one of my favorite parts of Olympia is how community-orientated it is. Off the top of my head, aside from the new city hall (which is an eyesore and completely unwanted by “the people”), and one single Starbucks (that doesn’t get nearly as much business as any of the other cafés in town), downtown is mom-and-pop shops, quaint and cozy locally owned businesses, and near completely free of any big, corporate business. The money we spend in the community stays in our community, that’s how our little economy works, and that's how we like to keep it.

I guess, for as much as I can bitch about it, I can revel about Olympia, too. But seriously, quit with the fucking flannels.