Mixed tape

It was common in the days when tape players ruled the musical world to make a gift of what we used to call a “mixed tape”. I was never a big fan of them as a young man, since I had my own musical tastes which were sufficiently eclectic as to make it nigh onto impossible for even a good friend to make a mixed tape from their own music to which I’d enjoy listening.

Or so, I thought.

I’ve listened to several mixed tapes of late. One was put together by my brother years ago and was heavy on Credence Clearwater, Jackson Browne and other artists he used to love, with some Warren Zevon thrown in to provide the recommended daily allowance of headless Thompson gunners.  One that I can’t find and wish I could was by Vala Cupp, my then-girlfriend. Cab Calloway, Billie Holliday, Tom Waits and Manhattan Transfer – now, there was a mix! Vala died a few years back and I really wish I’d kept this momento.

My friend Lance Hamilton used to come up with really cool mixes and I wish I had some of them now. The ones he made during the Electric Light Orchestra years would be fun to have. And I REALLY wish I still had the one a friend of mine made that included the only known recording of me singing bass in the quartet for Music Man.

As I write this, I’m on a flight from Seattle to San Diego and the folks seated behind me are holding forth non-stop at full volume about topics only a computer wonk would care about. In self-defense, I pulled out the old iPod and - tired of both Beethoven and the Oak Ridge Boys - I went surfing and came across a mixed set labeled “Swerdloves.” It turns out to be just what I needed. It’s truly a “mixed” playlist, with new twists on old favorites interspersed with cuts I’d never have chosen for myself but that feel like home within the first 32 bars. The Il Divo cut is to die for. What’s really cool is that I haven’t listened to this set for a while, so it feels new.

I guess there’s probably not likely to be a resurgence of mixed tape gifting on the near horizon. Too bad. Listening to music chosen for you by a dear friend you don’t see often is one of the treats of life. It’s a bit like enjoying Thanksgiving dinner at someone else’s house. The meal’s not prepared precisely the way you’ve always done it at home, but while it will never supplant your own traditions, it’s nevertheless homey and familiar. And sometimes a little surprising.

Thanks, Swerdlove people! I can’t imagine why I never much liked mixed tapes thirty years ago. What was I thinking?