Musings On Mix Tapes
Making a mix tape is such a strange thing, these days. Not that I ever like making mix tapes in the first place.
Look. Music is personal to me. Deeply personal. And I learned a long time ago that my musical tastes are quirky enough that I hate listening to it with other people, because I fucking hate that moment when I’m totally moved by this song and I see that they don’t like it.
I rock the songs when I’m alone. But if you’re not 100% with me, I don’t want to be with you. It’s just painful, that time when you realize you’re trying to share this confection of beats and joy with a friend and they’re all like, “Yeah, is it over yet?”
So I’ll listen to news. Or be silent. Talking’s good.
So if I make you a mix CD, it is me opening a heavily-locked door to my heart. It’s me saying, “Here are songs I like a lot, and I think you will too.” And I don’t risk that for just everybody. Because hey, I know you won’t like all of them, but maybe we can find this lovely little patch of carpet in the middle to lay down and snuggle on.
I’m currently in the process of making Christmas mix tapes for Angie and Jen and Jenna, and it’s a layer upon layer. Because now there are songs I love that belong to someone else.
While I adore Great Big Sea, that whole group now belongs to Bec because she loves them and I love them. It would be like cheating to give Angie a song by them – or, in fact, give them a song that Bec introduced me to. And there are songs I gave to Gini a long time ago that I’m reluctant to give to anyone else, because they were on the first precious mix CD I gave to her – and even though Gini doesn’t listen to those songs all that often, I spent such time in Ann Arbor listening to those songs while I was so deep in love with her that I refuse to hand them to anyone else.
So each mix CD becomes a little trickier. If I give them this song, and they love it, it may be theirs forever. Which makes each CD a greater gift, in some way; they own another piece of my heart. And so I must proceed with care.