Love this bit from one of my heroes, Thurston Moore, waxing poetic on the mix tape–The Best 90 Minutes of My Life:

I also needed to hear these records in a more time-fluid way, and it hit me that I could make a mix tape of all the best songs. So I made what I thought was the most killer hardcore tape ever. I wrote H on one side, and C on the other. That night, after my love Kim had fallen asleep, I put the tape in our stereo cassette player, dragged one of the little speakers over to the bed, and listened to it at ultralow thrash volume. I was in a state of humming bliss. This music had every cell and fiber in my body on heavy sizzle mode. It was sweet.

I still listen to mix tapes, in my car at home, those made for me, those made by me. There is nostalgia mixed up in those songs. Nostalgia I can’t find on a mixed CD. Mostly because making a mix tape was such a precarious thing. Kneeling on the floor before your machine, waiting for just the right second to hit pause so that you could queue up the next song.

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