Not sure what they call them anymore since we, meaning they, don't use cassettes. I still prefer CD to digital and I still have mixtapes from decades ago and they haven't (or hadn't) lost their shape or sound. I also continue to believe that a mixtape is an accurate representation of (a) the moment, (b) a very finite number of our favorite songs or (c) our ability to use other people's words to deliver our message. For my (b), the problem if there was one would be how to keep it from being Van Morrison-heavy.
Here are two non-Morrison samples from my potential (b) mixtape:
To be known, is there any part of life less easily conquered? First to be known to ourselves, not confused nor self-deceiving, then to find the means of communicating that, either by living it, writing it, speaking it, acting it out in pantomime, to significant others. Our human ability to misconstrue is without limit, as though existence were a cinema noir classic in which we each play a protagonist of limited vision who only dreams of the big score. Yes, I have recently been watching and thinking about noir. I can tell you this, the cartel always wins.
With the discovery of Pinterest, I found knitting artists who produce non-matching socks by the pair. They are jewels for the feet, rare and beautiful and, it seems, frequently made from last small bits of yarn leftover from other projects. I know I am one of those pair, not one row like another, disparate parts scattered all over the landscape. I believe most of us are. Our songs will be as divergent as our thoughts and favorite foods. A mixtape can be the microcosm, the linear presentation of peaks and valleys, a map of preferences in a way the brain can process it, us as a medley of our greatest hits which we feel no compulsion to explain.
It might have to be a video mixtape, what with Lou Reed and all.
Two mixtapes, one video, one audio. For now.