Funeral For A Tape

a total sob-story, careful
by jep clayton, issue 2, 2001

My favourite tape died the other day - stretched and snapped in half in the deck of the new-old car we bought last month. Both the car and the cassette were made in 1991. One was made by Honda, and the other was made by my friend Gerald, aka Rev Fear.

It raised some questions for me that I thought I'd ask the universe (or the internet universe, as God is not taking calls from me anymore) about; I also just wanted to immortalize the tape itself. It was a great one: It had three titles, as the best tapes do - one on each side and one on the case label. This doll was called DumbAss Frolicking Rock and Roll Extravaganza in the main, and sides were labelled Rotten and Really Rotten. All of these titles were true. When I put this tape on in my classroom (I'm a teeecher) the kids get really mad. It had a frenetic energy to it, a flaunting of the rules of conduct and taste, that made it glow in the dark. It ruled.

 

It died right in the middle of Jungle Man by the Chili Peppers, from back when they were fun.

What else was on it? Well, see fer yerself:

The punk smashes are mixed in with trebley craziness like Dream Police and the Citadel; bizarre crap like Heart's (gag) Unchained Melody (live!) precede beauties like Neil Young's Birds. And what the Shambalans describe as the true sense of humour, the light touch, is pervasive: Mad Magazine's Makin' Out is a better history lesson than We Didn't Start The Stupid Fire ("even Darth Vader is... makin out!); and Spinal Tap's Big Bottom is their own best tune, played on three bass guitars:

Big bottom! - big bottom!
Talk about bum cakes
My girl's got em!
Big bottoms drive me out of my mind
How can I leave this behind?

And the song on here that has become a member of my top ten rock songs list - by Zappa, forgive me -- was the treasure Let Me Take You To The Beach, an insane synth-driven straight-up-structured pop tune, sung in a manic falsetto, with breaks of discordance and riffage galore. Lyrics? I don't even want to get into them, except to say that he rhymes "eat a candy" with "hold your handy". It's nuts. (It can be found on the EP Studio Tan. )

I listened this tape to death, and now, sob, it's dead.

This in itself is the first of my grief-laden questions: are tapes worth it? I have never been a fan of the cassette. I think its a half-measure of a medium at best, and while it was better than the eight-track, I don't see people starting used Tape stores. BUT: The mix tape is a great thing. I recently got me a burner and made a couple of mix CD's. They are not the same. They're not long enough, and having only one side changes the structuring of the mix. Now, maybe I'll get used to it. The bands all seem to have gotten used to the single side.

Another question raised by this: what if Gerald really liked the Heart song? In the same way the emails are difficult to imbue with tone (thus all the little faces made of colons and stuff), jokes on mix tapes are difficult to convey. My students, for example, think the whole thing was a prank, especially the Zappa. I like to include Evan Dando's Keep on Lovin You REO cover on tapes, as it is one of the worst songs ever. But how is the receiver of the tape to take it? How can they be sure it isn't just a lapse of judgement?

Jokes in general can be tolerated less frequently than songs: I like to put little Steve Martin sound bites on tapes, but I know that this takes away from the listenabilty. I try to limit them to the beginning and end of sides when I use them - that way they can be fast forwarded in the car without much hassle.

Anyhoo. If anyone wants to let me know the answers to the questions (including the implicit question here, "Why God, why?", drop me a line at jep@bmxmusic.com. I need some guidance.

Flowers for the tape are gratefully appreciated, but we recommend you spend your money on the Studio Tan EP.

Later.

jep