clearly i have been thinking a lot about mixtapes lately, not just the romantic kind but the kind i exchanged with other ladies around my age in the late 90s heyday of the internet. some of the best ones were from beethousand, who arguably had the best taste in music that my little late 90s teen brain could comprehend. her tapes were (and to me still are) works of art.
i once had someone criticize me in regards to music, saying i was an excellent curator but i had no credit because i wasn’t a creator. that’s fine, whatever - if everyone had to create music to have an opinion on it, i don’t know who would write reviews anymore. i am the type of person who will always believe that creating a well-sequenced, beautiful mixtape is a gift. i am the type of person who has kept those tapes from others all of my life.
curation is a skill, it’s why they don’t let just anyone work in a museum. there is no way i would ever take for granted the ability to craft a mixtape for someone else, using others’ words and rhythms to form your cohesive thoughts. the end result - that message and vision - is yours and it means something separate from what those songs would mean independently.
each tape i traded with someone was an education, whether it was romantic or not. having other female friends geographically close to me who really wanted to collect seven inches and get deep into indie label catalogs was rare. bless the internet for giving all of us that shot.
Bless it indeed.