I wore out my "Workingman's Dead" tape playing it in my camper van driving around the country. That's where tapes sounded best to me, with wind blowing through the open window and the sound of a straight six engine at my right elbow. (The van was a '68 Dodge, with the engine in a box between the seats.)
I remember the excitement when my father bought a new car in 1990 and it included a tape deck. I agree - there was nothing like cruising down a country road with a tape running.
What a fine love letter. Thanks for this. I've been sitting on one of these odes to the cassette for a while now, and this inspired me to dust it off and work it up. So many memories and adventures!
Hi Robert, Cassettes are absolutely making a comeback. I recently went to see Ratboys, hot hot hot indie band for those who don't know, and they had all 3 of their most recent albums on the merch stand as cassette. In fact my own amateur band, The Dear Boys, just release a cassingle and quickly sold more copies than we did of our last EP on CD. I love having a collection of them, especially the home made ones, they mean an awful lot to me. Thanks for sharing your own love.
I have to admit, from time to time I yearn for the dozens of painstakingly curated mixtapes I made over the years. I’m sure they still exist somewhere - in someone’s collection, in a thrift shop, or perhaps even a landfill and I occasionally feel a deep sadness that they’ve been lost to time.
Taping from the radio was both art and craft. Got a double deck back in the hardware mix a few years ago and have been threatening to start a mixtape club. Thanks for the inspo.
There is something very satisfying about the cassette tape form factor. Akin to a pack of cigarettes or playing cards. It harkens back to a time when you had to physically be with people to share things: a quick pick me up, a social evening, or a killer track. Usually all of the above.
The liner of hand scrawled playlist, the snap of the case, the rattle of the reels, the hiss and pop, the warbly bit from when your cheap ghetto blaster decided to eat the tape. I think I need to go find a tape deck!
My father used to make tapes from the records he collected and we played them endlessly on road trips. So that's where the cassette really stands in my memory.
Cassettes were a vital part of my growing up and discovering music. Taping songs off the radio, hoping the DJ wouldn’t talk all the way through the intro… making my own mixtapes… carefully planning sets with one continuous beat-mixed flow. And yes, usually the second-to-last transition would go wrong, forcing me to start the whole thing again while cursing out loud.
There was also the fun of preparing the tapes you wanted to take with you on holiday. For me, the cassette was really my main creative tool back then.
I was also a huge fan of the Sony MiniDisc, which came later and was much easier to work with. Anyway — happy times.
That said, I do find the current comeback of cassettes a bit puzzling. Back then they were pretty much the only option for the kind of creativity I’m describing. Today there are countless alternatives. And the few pre-recorded cassettes I owned were never really satisfying — vinyl always sounded so much better.
Great affirmation of the organic beauty of old media. I listen now and then to scratchy 78s because they sound like what I imagine it sounded like back then, in the primitive world before digits. Plus which I still can rewind a tape manually if I have to. Thanks for this!
Anytime, Thomas! The idea of hearing the music as it was initially intended is a powerful impulse and a powerful way to connect with music or any artistic medium.
A long screed from a long-ago blog post, thought you might enjoy it.
In Praise of Scratchy Records
They’ve been sitting on my shelf for years: a stack of 78rpm records, most in their original paper sleeves, the paper is dried and crumbling, and the discs are sandwiched between red pebbled cardboard covers. The bindings are gone, the covers don’t really hold them, and when I handle them, I have to be careful because they’ll slip and slide and unlike CDs, if they hit the floor they’re gone.
I didn’t play them because I didn’t have a turntable. Lots of my friends don’t have a table. Instead, we have Bluetooth WiFi download music, digital streams and thousands of tunes stores in phones and other “devices.” Finally, I treated myself to a little Crosley turntable that will let me play stuff and use a USB connection to load it into my computer.
The USB cable and the software for transfer are still in their packaging. I’m apparently in no hurry to “simplify” things. Now that I’ve got the machinery to play these recordings, I intend to work my way through the pile, scratches and all. This morning, I’ve discovered Pearl Bailey doing “I Need Ya Like a Hole in the Head,” and Hoagy Carmichael’s “Hong Kong Blues” - the B side of “Star Dust.”
There is something absolutely right about the 78 version of the scratch and swing of Red Nichols leading “The Charleston Chasers,” one of the dozen names Nichols gave his ensemble, (including the best-known, the Five Pennies). There’s mystery here - is that Jimmy Dorsey tootling away? Could that be the great Eddie Lang driving the tune on rhythm guitar? They played with Red Nichols on many of his records, and there were many. They say he played on 4,000 records during the Twenties. This heavy slab of shellac is an artifact of that incredible career.
Sometimes the old 78 is not quite up to the job. I have the Five Red Caps, a fantastic vocal group from Los Angeles, doing “Boogie Wall Ball.” This number is from the three years in the mid-Forties when they worked with Joe Davis on Beacon Records. The scratches overwhelm the lyrics. What cuts through the static and stands up even after 70 years is the drive of the music - the bottom of the bass, the pulse of the piano.
My rediscovered collection is far from antique. They were making “acoustical” records at the turn of the century; my stuff comes from an era or two later, when recording engineers used electrical tools (microphones and amplifiers). But it’s old enough: I just opened up an “album” from Market & Broad Radio-Music in Newark. That corner was the site of the first skyscraper, once the busiest commercial intersection in the country. Just to read the marking on the inner paper sleeves is a delight - and it will have to do: the Glen Gray and Bunny Berigan records were broken into pieces.
And maybe that’s the clue to why these old scratchy records have such an appeal. They are physical links to entertainment and American culture that disappeared a long time ago. They are the artifacts of an analog world, a physical world. With each dazzling innovation from the digital domain, that analog space recedes in the rear-view mirror. I love digital tools - I couldn’t be sharing this rumination with you unless we each had our internet game on. It’s just that I like reflecting on where we have been. There is much to learn there.
Scratches on an old 78 record are the character lines in the music. They are audible witnesses to the handling and listening and enjoying that has gone on since the session all those years ago. Some of this music has probably been cleaned up and reissued on CD. I’m sure if I look around (maybe even in my own collection) I’ll find Billie Holiday singing “That Ole Devil Called Love.” But it won’t have the fragile, wistful tang of the Decca 78, from about 1944. It may sound “better,” but to my ears, it probably won’t sound nearly as good.
Love this! I too spent an ungodly amount of hours sitting by the radio ready to hit record with my tape deck! I started with a vinyl collection, but started buying more cassettes when I started driving. I have boxes of cassettes and mixtapes.
They are absolutely making a comeback. A few weeks after the new Wet Leg album came out last year, I was at the record store standing at the counter talking to the owner, and happened to look down and see a brand new cassette of the new Wet Leg album- I was like “What?!?!? They are still making cassettes??” He said yep- the kids are buying Walkmans like crazy! Not too long after that, my daughter asked for a Discman for Christmas.
A very nice piece -- I was born just too late for tapes, so it's nice to hear from someone who appreciates them! Also glad to see some love for Clapton's playing, which is now becoming underrated!
Skiing would never have been the be the same without my expensive Sharp walkman. Going down those slopes accompanied by Pink Floyd and Santana on a great day, would have been that little bit bland without my cassettes. As for standing in-line waiting for a chair lift, or the cold ride on the chair that stalled halfway up.
I remember the first time I played a Walkman and walked around with music piped in through earbuds. I thought, "I can be outside and still listen to music." Needless to say, that was an idea tailor made for me.
Hey Robert, I am not having a go at your article or anything like that. I just think tapes are rubbish. Personal opinion, but they are useless. I wrote a bit about it on my Grooves & Gravy stack if you would like to read the other side of the coin. But I will give you this. I miss making mixtapes. But now it's playlists.
I wore out my "Workingman's Dead" tape playing it in my camper van driving around the country. That's where tapes sounded best to me, with wind blowing through the open window and the sound of a straight six engine at my right elbow. (The van was a '68 Dodge, with the engine in a box between the seats.)
I remember the excitement when my father bought a new car in 1990 and it included a tape deck. I agree - there was nothing like cruising down a country road with a tape running.
What a fine love letter. Thanks for this. I've been sitting on one of these odes to the cassette for a while now, and this inspired me to dust it off and work it up. So many memories and adventures!
Anytime, Michael - so glad you liked this. Looking forward to reading your ode to tapes whenever it may be ready.
Long live the painstakingly curated radio captured mixtape!
They were fun to put together!
Hi Robert, Cassettes are absolutely making a comeback. I recently went to see Ratboys, hot hot hot indie band for those who don't know, and they had all 3 of their most recent albums on the merch stand as cassette. In fact my own amateur band, The Dear Boys, just release a cassingle and quickly sold more copies than we did of our last EP on CD. I love having a collection of them, especially the home made ones, they mean an awful lot to me. Thanks for sharing your own love.
Thanks, Tony! Indeed, a lot of love went into my tapes. Amazing to hear that cassettes are coming back.
I have to admit, from time to time I yearn for the dozens of painstakingly curated mixtapes I made over the years. I’m sure they still exist somewhere - in someone’s collection, in a thrift shop, or perhaps even a landfill and I occasionally feel a deep sadness that they’ve been lost to time.
All mine are stashed at my parents and all unlabeled. One day, I should get them and spend a day going through them.
If you do, I’d love to hear about it. Maybe an essay about the rediscovering and reevaluation of those old mixtapes. That would be fantastic!
That's a great idea - there would lots to say about what is on those mixtapes.
Taping from the radio was both art and craft. Got a double deck back in the hardware mix a few years ago and have been threatening to start a mixtape club. Thanks for the inspo.
That's a club I'd want be a member of.
There is something very satisfying about the cassette tape form factor. Akin to a pack of cigarettes or playing cards. It harkens back to a time when you had to physically be with people to share things: a quick pick me up, a social evening, or a killer track. Usually all of the above.
The liner of hand scrawled playlist, the snap of the case, the rattle of the reels, the hiss and pop, the warbly bit from when your cheap ghetto blaster decided to eat the tape. I think I need to go find a tape deck!
Love all this, Adrian, and love the allusions to a pack of cigarettes or cards. Right on!
My father used to make tapes from the records he collected and we played them endlessly on road trips. So that's where the cassette really stands in my memory.
I have many good memories of listening to tapes in the family car. Very happy times!
Thanks for this love letter, Robert!
Cassettes were a vital part of my growing up and discovering music. Taping songs off the radio, hoping the DJ wouldn’t talk all the way through the intro… making my own mixtapes… carefully planning sets with one continuous beat-mixed flow. And yes, usually the second-to-last transition would go wrong, forcing me to start the whole thing again while cursing out loud.
There was also the fun of preparing the tapes you wanted to take with you on holiday. For me, the cassette was really my main creative tool back then.
I was also a huge fan of the Sony MiniDisc, which came later and was much easier to work with. Anyway — happy times.
That said, I do find the current comeback of cassettes a bit puzzling. Back then they were pretty much the only option for the kind of creativity I’m describing. Today there are countless alternatives. And the few pre-recorded cassettes I owned were never really satisfying — vinyl always sounded so much better.
Still, I’m curious to see how this develops.
Me too - I feel like it's part of a counter-cultural rejection of big tech - AI, social media, etc. etc.
Great affirmation of the organic beauty of old media. I listen now and then to scratchy 78s because they sound like what I imagine it sounded like back then, in the primitive world before digits. Plus which I still can rewind a tape manually if I have to. Thanks for this!
Anytime, Thomas! The idea of hearing the music as it was initially intended is a powerful impulse and a powerful way to connect with music or any artistic medium.
A long screed from a long-ago blog post, thought you might enjoy it.
In Praise of Scratchy Records
They’ve been sitting on my shelf for years: a stack of 78rpm records, most in their original paper sleeves, the paper is dried and crumbling, and the discs are sandwiched between red pebbled cardboard covers. The bindings are gone, the covers don’t really hold them, and when I handle them, I have to be careful because they’ll slip and slide and unlike CDs, if they hit the floor they’re gone.
I didn’t play them because I didn’t have a turntable. Lots of my friends don’t have a table. Instead, we have Bluetooth WiFi download music, digital streams and thousands of tunes stores in phones and other “devices.” Finally, I treated myself to a little Crosley turntable that will let me play stuff and use a USB connection to load it into my computer.
The USB cable and the software for transfer are still in their packaging. I’m apparently in no hurry to “simplify” things. Now that I’ve got the machinery to play these recordings, I intend to work my way through the pile, scratches and all. This morning, I’ve discovered Pearl Bailey doing “I Need Ya Like a Hole in the Head,” and Hoagy Carmichael’s “Hong Kong Blues” - the B side of “Star Dust.”
There is something absolutely right about the 78 version of the scratch and swing of Red Nichols leading “The Charleston Chasers,” one of the dozen names Nichols gave his ensemble, (including the best-known, the Five Pennies). There’s mystery here - is that Jimmy Dorsey tootling away? Could that be the great Eddie Lang driving the tune on rhythm guitar? They played with Red Nichols on many of his records, and there were many. They say he played on 4,000 records during the Twenties. This heavy slab of shellac is an artifact of that incredible career.
Sometimes the old 78 is not quite up to the job. I have the Five Red Caps, a fantastic vocal group from Los Angeles, doing “Boogie Wall Ball.” This number is from the three years in the mid-Forties when they worked with Joe Davis on Beacon Records. The scratches overwhelm the lyrics. What cuts through the static and stands up even after 70 years is the drive of the music - the bottom of the bass, the pulse of the piano.
My rediscovered collection is far from antique. They were making “acoustical” records at the turn of the century; my stuff comes from an era or two later, when recording engineers used electrical tools (microphones and amplifiers). But it’s old enough: I just opened up an “album” from Market & Broad Radio-Music in Newark. That corner was the site of the first skyscraper, once the busiest commercial intersection in the country. Just to read the marking on the inner paper sleeves is a delight - and it will have to do: the Glen Gray and Bunny Berigan records were broken into pieces.
And maybe that’s the clue to why these old scratchy records have such an appeal. They are physical links to entertainment and American culture that disappeared a long time ago. They are the artifacts of an analog world, a physical world. With each dazzling innovation from the digital domain, that analog space recedes in the rear-view mirror. I love digital tools - I couldn’t be sharing this rumination with you unless we each had our internet game on. It’s just that I like reflecting on where we have been. There is much to learn there.
Scratches on an old 78 record are the character lines in the music. They are audible witnesses to the handling and listening and enjoying that has gone on since the session all those years ago. Some of this music has probably been cleaned up and reissued on CD. I’m sure if I look around (maybe even in my own collection) I’ll find Billie Holiday singing “That Ole Devil Called Love.” But it won’t have the fragile, wistful tang of the Decca 78, from about 1944. It may sound “better,” but to my ears, it probably won’t sound nearly as good.
Love this! I too spent an ungodly amount of hours sitting by the radio ready to hit record with my tape deck! I started with a vinyl collection, but started buying more cassettes when I started driving. I have boxes of cassettes and mixtapes.
They are absolutely making a comeback. A few weeks after the new Wet Leg album came out last year, I was at the record store standing at the counter talking to the owner, and happened to look down and see a brand new cassette of the new Wet Leg album- I was like “What?!?!? They are still making cassettes??” He said yep- the kids are buying Walkmans like crazy! Not too long after that, my daughter asked for a Discman for Christmas.
Thanks, Kristin! Sounds like the kids are more than all right!
A very nice piece -- I was born just too late for tapes, so it's nice to hear from someone who appreciates them! Also glad to see some love for Clapton's playing, which is now becoming underrated!
When Clapton is on, few can touch him.
Skiing would never have been the be the same without my expensive Sharp walkman. Going down those slopes accompanied by Pink Floyd and Santana on a great day, would have been that little bit bland without my cassettes. As for standing in-line waiting for a chair lift, or the cold ride on the chair that stalled halfway up.
I remember the first time I played a Walkman and walked around with music piped in through earbuds. I thought, "I can be outside and still listen to music." Needless to say, that was an idea tailor made for me.
Hey Robert, I am not having a go at your article or anything like that. I just think tapes are rubbish. Personal opinion, but they are useless. I wrote a bit about it on my Grooves & Gravy stack if you would like to read the other side of the coin. But I will give you this. I miss making mixtapes. But now it's playlists.
I hear you. Send along the piece!
https://groovesandgravy.substack.com/p/cassette-tapes-are-still-rubbish
Thanks for sharing. I enjoyed reading this.