The Cassette Returns On a Wave of Nostalgia (theguardian.com)
An anonymous reader quotes a report from The Guardian: Pause. Stop. Rewind! The cassette, long consigned to the bargain bin of musical history, is staging a humble comeback. Sales have soared in the last year -- up 125% in 2018 on the year before -- amounting to more than 50,000 cassette albums bought in the UK, the highest volume in 15 years. It's quite a fall from the format's peak in 1989 when 83 million cassettes were bought by British music fans, but when everyone from pop superstar Ariana Grande to punk duo Sleaford Mods are taking to tape, a mini revival seems afoot. But why?
"It's the tangibility of having this collectible format and a way to play music that isn't just a stream or download," says techno DJ Phin, who has just released her first EP on cassette as label boss of Theory of Yesterday. "I find them much more attractive than CDs. Tapes have a lifespan, and unlike digital music, there is decay and death. It's like a living thing and that appeals to me." Phin left the bulk of her own 100-strong cassette collection in Turkey, carefully stored at her parents' home, but bought "20 or 25 really special ones" when she moved to London. "I'm from that generation," she says. "It's a nostalgia thing -- I like the hiss." "Vinyl has got so expensive to manufacture these days, especially if it's only a seven-inch you're putting out. You'll only lose money on a seven-inch release," says Tallulah Webb, who runs cassette-only label Sad Club Records. "Cassettes are an exciting way to put music out, in the same way that seven-inch singles were exciting for punk. They have always been a crucial part of the DIY scene."
On the flip side, Peter Robinson, founder and editor of Popjustice, believes the trend for tapes is a gimmick gone too far. "Cassettes are the worst-ever music format, and I say that as someone who owns a Keane single on a USB stick," he says. "I can understand the romance and the tactile appeal of the vinyl revival, but I'm actually quite amused by the audacity of anyone attempting to drum up some sense of nostalgia for a format that was barely tolerated in its supposed heyday. It's like someone looked at the vinyl revival and said: what this needs is lower sound quality and even less convenience."
"I think labels know full well that almost every cassette they sell is going straight on a shelf as some sort of dreadful plastic ornament," he says. "I don't think it's much different to the recent trend for pop stars adding pairs of socks to their merchandise lines, the crucial difference being that, for better or worse, socks don't count towards the album chart."
"It's the tangibility of having this collectible format and a way to play music that isn't just a stream or download," says techno DJ Phin, who has just released her first EP on cassette as label boss of Theory of Yesterday. "I find them much more attractive than CDs. Tapes have a lifespan, and unlike digital music, there is decay and death. It's like a living thing and that appeals to me." Phin left the bulk of her own 100-strong cassette collection in Turkey, carefully stored at her parents' home, but bought "20 or 25 really special ones" when she moved to London. "I'm from that generation," she says. "It's a nostalgia thing -- I like the hiss." "Vinyl has got so expensive to manufacture these days, especially if it's only a seven-inch you're putting out. You'll only lose money on a seven-inch release," says Tallulah Webb, who runs cassette-only label Sad Club Records. "Cassettes are an exciting way to put music out, in the same way that seven-inch singles were exciting for punk. They have always been a crucial part of the DIY scene."
On the flip side, Peter Robinson, founder and editor of Popjustice, believes the trend for tapes is a gimmick gone too far. "Cassettes are the worst-ever music format, and I say that as someone who owns a Keane single on a USB stick," he says. "I can understand the romance and the tactile appeal of the vinyl revival, but I'm actually quite amused by the audacity of anyone attempting to drum up some sense of nostalgia for a format that was barely tolerated in its supposed heyday. It's like someone looked at the vinyl revival and said: what this needs is lower sound quality and even less convenience."
"I think labels know full well that almost every cassette they sell is going straight on a shelf as some sort of dreadful plastic ornament," he says. "I don't think it's much different to the recent trend for pop stars adding pairs of socks to their merchandise lines, the crucial difference being that, for better or worse, socks don't count towards the album chart."
I married my high school sweetheart after we were both out of college. We both went to high school during the height of the cassette tape generation, and share fond memories of making each other mix tapes.
Last year, we were moving and I found an old shoebox in the closet that I had never known was there. It was full of old things that I had given her in high school - some snap bracelets, notes we had passed in class, a can of spray glitter, other 80's fabulous relics, and a few mix tapes that I had made for her, including Mix Tape Number One - the first one I had ever made her on my old Realistic boom box. It was our first date - get a pizza and make a mix tape together.
I left the box exactly where it was, as undisturbed as possible, but I scribbled down all the songs that were on that mix tape. I managed to find the exact boom box I had on ebay, thanks to the nostalgia that was going around at the time of Radio Shack's closure, and with a little help from Spotify, I re-made that exact cassette tape using as many remixes and new versions as I could.
It was our 20th anniversary, and we were talking about what to do. I suggested we just go out to our favorite Italian restaurant and then I'd take her out for a surprise evening. I called a few days before to talk to the chef to see if he could make us a pizza (the restaurant doesn't have it on the menu), and he said sure, he could.
We got to the restaurant, and I had asked for a private dining area, so our host seated us in a back corner away from everyone else. I told my wife that I'd already ordered something special for us so we just got an appetizer and a bottle of wine to start.
After a while, a small team of people from the kitchen brought us our main course: a large pizza with pepperoni and green pepper on half and sausage and feta on the other half, and a dusty old Realistic boom box playing the remade mix tape we had made together on our first date.
The revival of the cassette tape isn't just to do with hipsters making old technology cool again. It's about cherishing memories of a time when the cassette tape was such an integral part of how we expressed ourselves. Playlists have become so easy that they have lost their meaning. Mix tapes took hours to put together and so had a lot of value in terms of time and effort sacrificed for another human being.
That night we were both reminded of just how much we love each other to this day. Our kids are getting ready to head out to college, and we'll be starting the empty-nester phase of our lives together before we know it. It's nice to have anchors in our relationship, and that first date is certainly one of them.