I have a problem with technology. It isn't just my shitty dial-up connection or my inability to operate any certain piece of equipment or the inconvenience that technology inherently causes. Let's go back in time a few years.
One of my favorite things to do used to be to make mix tapes for people. It still is, but I don't make them anymore. I had a good time putting all the music together, like a puzzle, trying to string songs together that may or may not have some lyrical relevance, similar beats or complimentary melodies/instruments. I would sit down in front of my stereo for hours at a time with my cd's, records and tapes to put it all together. Sometimes there was a purpose to the mix, perhaps to share new and favorite music with Steve, or to try and swoon a girl, or as a background to a certain party or situation. It was more entertaining to make than it was to listen to. I was allowed to create a backdrop for Monica's trip to Europe or Steve's trek across that same continent and into Africa, where it was eventually traded for a camel ride in Egypt. Certain songs still make me think of Mexican mountains or sitting in a hotel in Portland. Those effects are profound and I'm proud of them. Can't quite put them on a resume, but that's okay.
My problem came along in about 1998 or so, when cd burners became available to the common people, people such as myself who yearned for that convenience of putting together songs by dragging and dropping and the increased portability and popularity of cd players. After all, with tapes there was tape, something that could wear down or break or get eaten by the wrong tape player. There was also the issue of timing. If a tape was 45 minutes to a side, chances were with the songs you had picked out you probably were going to either have your last song cut off part way through OR there would be an awkward minute and a half of silence at the end because you couldn't find any songs that were that short that would work with the mix, the flow as it were. If you made a cd that was shorter than the disc, it just ended. There was so much incentive in the convenience of cds.
Over time, though, I've come to a couple conclusions about making mix cd's. One is that I never like the discs I make anywhere close to as much as I loved the tapes I made. They're like watered-down versions of my old work. The songs sometimes go together, the lyrics sometimes make sense from one song to the next and occasionally you can establish a theme. But it isn't the same and it has been driving me bonkers that I can't get back to that same place. I've tried several programs; I'm currently utilizing i-Tunes for my mixing needs. But it still comes up short.
I don't want to listen to my cd's after a while. I went looking through my tapes the other night and I got all excited to hear certain mixes again. I wanted to go through and listen to every minute. I recognized my tape from Portland, and another tape that maybe Brian Stratton had made for me many years ago. I look through my book of cd's and I have no urge to listen to them. Its like they're disposable. Once you're done with them, throw it away.
Here's what I figured out. It isn't tangible. You can't touch it. It's like doing a crossword online, you don't have the ability to use your pen to scratch off 34 across. It just isn't as satisfying when it's all done with a mouse. When you make a mix tape you hold all of this music in your hands, you rifle through it to check the song length, the lyrics, forward through to parts of the songs, the intros and endings. There is less room for compromise. When something doesn't quite work in the digital world you can more easily make exceptions in places where you might work through it more with a tape. If I came to a part that didn't work with a tape I wouldn't say that I could live with that. It was like a wall that I had to examine to determine how I was going to disassemble or climb over it. Sometimes it meant going back and rearranging and re-recording the songs, or it could mean that I use a different song. It caused me to stop and think about it, to interact with all of the music in front of me. It seems with making a cd that you're just assembling a list, you are removed from the music and it turns into information. It becomes what it is in your computer, just a bunch of numbers.
When you have to compile a stack of music, I think there are some choices that you won't make, things you won't stack on the pile. With i-Tunes all the music is right there. Its easy to think that something in theory would make a good addition to whatever it is that you're doing. There is an impulse that is easily accommodated by the click and drag method. Impulse is certainly adundantly available with making a tape, but when you have to go and seek that out it gives a longer period to mull it over and to question why it belongs.
Tangible interaction without compromise. That is what I get out of making a tape. Those are the advantages. I realize that there probably aren't very many people who, like me, take these things far too seriously. But I also see it as an art form, a means of communication and a very touching gesture to get something that a person took time out of their busy life to compile, think about, dwell on and eventually assemble in a manner to their liking. I got to talking so much and so excitedly about this the other night that Monica suggested I go out and buy a tape player to make me feel better. I might.
I've got to believe there's a way to take the convenience of the digital click and drag mixes and instill something tangible that can help quell the impulses that drive people like me to put the Glenn Miller Orchestra and Korn next to each other on the same mix. Which is funny, but absolutely tasteless.
One of my favorite things to do used to be to make mix tapes for people. It still is, but I don't make them anymore. I had a good time putting all the music together, like a puzzle, trying to string songs together that may or may not have some lyrical relevance, similar beats or complimentary melodies/instruments. I would sit down in front of my stereo for hours at a time with my cd's, records and tapes to put it all together. Sometimes there was a purpose to the mix, perhaps to share new and favorite music with Steve, or to try and swoon a girl, or as a background to a certain party or situation. It was more entertaining to make than it was to listen to. I was allowed to create a backdrop for Monica's trip to Europe or Steve's trek across that same continent and into Africa, where it was eventually traded for a camel ride in Egypt. Certain songs still make me think of Mexican mountains or sitting in a hotel in Portland. Those effects are profound and I'm proud of them. Can't quite put them on a resume, but that's okay.
My problem came along in about 1998 or so, when cd burners became available to the common people, people such as myself who yearned for that convenience of putting together songs by dragging and dropping and the increased portability and popularity of cd players. After all, with tapes there was tape, something that could wear down or break or get eaten by the wrong tape player. There was also the issue of timing. If a tape was 45 minutes to a side, chances were with the songs you had picked out you probably were going to either have your last song cut off part way through OR there would be an awkward minute and a half of silence at the end because you couldn't find any songs that were that short that would work with the mix, the flow as it were. If you made a cd that was shorter than the disc, it just ended. There was so much incentive in the convenience of cds.
Over time, though, I've come to a couple conclusions about making mix cd's. One is that I never like the discs I make anywhere close to as much as I loved the tapes I made. They're like watered-down versions of my old work. The songs sometimes go together, the lyrics sometimes make sense from one song to the next and occasionally you can establish a theme. But it isn't the same and it has been driving me bonkers that I can't get back to that same place. I've tried several programs; I'm currently utilizing i-Tunes for my mixing needs. But it still comes up short.
I don't want to listen to my cd's after a while. I went looking through my tapes the other night and I got all excited to hear certain mixes again. I wanted to go through and listen to every minute. I recognized my tape from Portland, and another tape that maybe Brian Stratton had made for me many years ago. I look through my book of cd's and I have no urge to listen to them. Its like they're disposable. Once you're done with them, throw it away.
Here's what I figured out. It isn't tangible. You can't touch it. It's like doing a crossword online, you don't have the ability to use your pen to scratch off 34 across. It just isn't as satisfying when it's all done with a mouse. When you make a mix tape you hold all of this music in your hands, you rifle through it to check the song length, the lyrics, forward through to parts of the songs, the intros and endings. There is less room for compromise. When something doesn't quite work in the digital world you can more easily make exceptions in places where you might work through it more with a tape. If I came to a part that didn't work with a tape I wouldn't say that I could live with that. It was like a wall that I had to examine to determine how I was going to disassemble or climb over it. Sometimes it meant going back and rearranging and re-recording the songs, or it could mean that I use a different song. It caused me to stop and think about it, to interact with all of the music in front of me. It seems with making a cd that you're just assembling a list, you are removed from the music and it turns into information. It becomes what it is in your computer, just a bunch of numbers.
When you have to compile a stack of music, I think there are some choices that you won't make, things you won't stack on the pile. With i-Tunes all the music is right there. Its easy to think that something in theory would make a good addition to whatever it is that you're doing. There is an impulse that is easily accommodated by the click and drag method. Impulse is certainly adundantly available with making a tape, but when you have to go and seek that out it gives a longer period to mull it over and to question why it belongs.
Tangible interaction without compromise. That is what I get out of making a tape. Those are the advantages. I realize that there probably aren't very many people who, like me, take these things far too seriously. But I also see it as an art form, a means of communication and a very touching gesture to get something that a person took time out of their busy life to compile, think about, dwell on and eventually assemble in a manner to their liking. I got to talking so much and so excitedly about this the other night that Monica suggested I go out and buy a tape player to make me feel better. I might.
I've got to believe there's a way to take the convenience of the digital click and drag mixes and instill something tangible that can help quell the impulses that drive people like me to put the Glenn Miller Orchestra and Korn next to each other on the same mix. Which is funny, but absolutely tasteless.