I can’t find the mixtape she made me!!

I’ve looked for it for four days now and its nowhere to be seen. It has to be somewhere, I remember exactly how it looks, it’s a browny grey, and side A has a white and red label, and side B has a white and blue label, both are aptly named Side A and Side B.

Last week I picked up a cool little hard case for cassette tapes and I bought this home ready to house the tape, and it’s not here. It's irritating me, because I know I had it.

I start to try and recollect,’ Ok yes you had it, but when WHEN?’ I ask myself……

I can't answer.

I remember it, Prob 70% of the songs on it. I know the feeling of it and I had it.

I go onto Youtube and within 10mins I’ve found most of the tracks that were on that tape. I’ve queued them up ready and hit play. Listening to the first few tracks bring a smile to me and bring back the memory of being on a family holiday in Spain, 1996; I’m laying on the bed in my room listening to the tape on repeat through my Walkman and the sun is lighting up my room.

I’ve got the tracks here on Youtube right in front of me, but it doesn’t feel right — the order doesn’t feel right! Does this song even belong on this side? The flow doesn’t feel the same, I remember some of the order, but this feels all jumbled and irritates me. I think the fact that the tape is missing is what bothers me. Why would I throw it away? Why would I be so ungrateful and stupid…..She rinsed her elder sister's collection to make me that and I haven’t taken it through to adult life. I can’t remember throwing it away, but I’m sure at the time I would justify my actions by telling myself ‘Well it’s all on mp3 now’.

Regrets.

Fast forward to this moment in time and it occurs that I don’t have an actual cassette player! Ha! So even if I did have the tape, where the hell was I playing it? I move on and back onto Youtube to enter the Musical Rabbit Hole. Three hours and eight genres later it's now 00:36 am and I know I must drag myself to bed and go to sleep. These late-night holes feel like benders. I don’t know it happens, but I go through the journey and allow myself to be taken and I don’t question the stops.

Since the age of 8, I’ve sought out the music. I fondly remember standing by the stereo, listening to Capital radio on a Sunday 4–7 pm for the top 40 singles. My blank cassette was loaded in the stereo, with sellotape over the holes just like big sister had taught me and when the time was right. BANG! Play and Record together BOOM. On a good session, you’d only get a small amount of DJ speaking over your tracks —you began to understand the DJ’s flow and cadence, so you could time it and find a clean break. These were the first real mixtapes you owned and cared for.

It gets me thinking back to those years when I received the mixtape. I remember handing another friend a blank VHS and she would leave on MTV and just record it and then come in with the full 3-hour tape. I recall Sundays being a better day to choose from, maybe there were a better mix or fewer ads? I’m not sure. This friend had Sky TV and at that time I didn’t so she was my key to music and music videos.

When that full VHS tape came back to school the next week, and I took it from her I was so filled with gratitude and excitement — What was on there? Who was on there? I couldn’t wait to get home. I could get in for 4 pm and Dad would hijack the front room from 7 pm so I could have the three hours to myself without interference unless of course, I had to do housework or pick up my snotty little brother.

Fuck that, on with the tape.

The excitement was real, the stab in the dark was real and I would press play. Music Id never heard, artists id never heard of — it was all new and exciting. Some of the songs I loved, and some I hated. These were mostly American artists that were on both ends of the spectrum so they wouldn’t make their way onto Capital FM. Either too alternative or parental advisory needed, thanks Tipper Gore.

My friend would encourage me to try and get into some of the heavier rap tracks and I did, so they eventually grew on me. I now had access to the music video! The MTV — I could see how the artists and bands looked. The narrative of the music video, the way they dressed and I could now see the guitars being played — could that I mean that I could possibly try to work out how to play some of the songs via this new media? There were new levels unlocked and I was fully committed.

More VHS tapes would come and the process would repeat.

The feeling was so special.

We are still friends now.

The average album on CD was £12.99 and singles could be £1.99 — £3.99, I generally went for albums as they told the whole story, and I needed to know the whole story. The music magazines set the scene and provided the platform and interest. Anything I could afford Id buy; Smash Hits, Melody Maker, NME, Rolling stone, Kerrang, Metal Hammer, and Mojo.

I would then make the pilgrimage to the local music shop, 25mins on the bus and no money to buy the CD but that was never an issue. I’d walk up to the counter and ask if they could play the album for me on the headphone post. The staff would look at me the same way that Mcdonald’s staff do when you ask for more ketchup. They give off this feeling like ‘ I could have made that record’ ‘I could have built this store’ and here you are, grubby teenager, asking to me to do something for you. I’m not yet the person I’ve become so I allow them to intimidate me with huffs and eye rolls and make myself smaller and quietly go towards the listening post. Retrospectively in my head, I tell them to act like their £4 an hour job and just fucking press play.

I stand there, and I stand there and I stand there. Track after track. There is no rewind so I can just start again from that track or I can skip to the next. I don’t skip — I go right through every time. It is great. I don’t have a phone or camera or a way to document favorite tracks or lyrics so I’m forced to go back to the counter and ask for a pen and paper.

‘Did she just ask for a fucking pen and paper’ their faces groan.

I scurry back to the post because I don’t want to get thrown out, esp as its evident I don’t have a penny for this CD. The headphones are so rounded and warm that my ears are completely surrounded and so I can hear everything so clearly and nothing at all in the shop. The sound is loud and clear, and when I hear those songs that strike that chord in me for the time, I feel sick — I feel like I’ve fallen in love and dumped at the same time. I can't explain it. My stomach goes and I feel the adrenaline and excitement of discovering this new music. The instruments, the beats, the vocals, and what chords are they? Is that a drum machine? Is that an A or C?

I can’t write down enough about these songs on this shitty little piece of paper the dickhead at the till has given me. Key lyrics that resonate with me leave me puzzled, I can’t solve them and I’m not yet rounded enough to truly interpret them. What does he mean by that? Did Something Happen? Did she leave him? Was he ill? I can relate to some of what he is saying but where do I go from here?

I don’t know how I can find the answers to fully understand the lead singer.

This is Teenage turmoil right now.

Will I have to wait for the next time the band is interviewed? Who are they? What’s their story?

At best I can dedicate hours and hours of time on a Sunday in the local book shop. In the music section, there is a corner I can sit in and read the biographies. This helps to fulfill my curiosity with artists and understand their background.

I’m now more equipped, but still no direct answers to my questions.

I never do find the answers, and won't for another sixteen years or so until randomly browsing my smartphone one day and thought to ask google — So What does that lyric mean? When you get the answer in 0.82 seconds it’s not as interesting as your creative mind once pictured it to be.

Nor do the tracks hold the same sentiment they once did,….but the journey still does.

Right now I have everything at my fingertips, I don’t even need to leave my house and I couldn’t tell you what magazines are published anymore. The word Saudade comes to mind, for that feeling. Not just the actual music, but the feeling of discovery and then loss — knowing it will never come again. I’m grateful for the experience in having so many real treasure hunts

I just love it