Love is a Mix Tape

What is Love? Great minds have been grappling with this question throughout the ages, and in the modern era, they have come up with many different answers. According to Western philosopher Pat Benatar, love is a battlefield. Her paisan Frank Sinatra would add the corollary that love is a tender trap. Love hurts. Love stinks. Love bites, love bleeds, love is the drug. The troubadours of our time agree: They want to know what love is, and they want you to show them. But the answer is simple: Love is a mix tape. –Rob Sheffield

Reading this got me thinking about the mix tapes of my day, the set lists designed to make me feel sad, amped, at peace, in love. Love is a Mix Tape is a love letter to Sheffield’s late wife, a sharing of the great songs they listened to as their relationship evolved, her way of speaking to him even after she was gone. The fifteen mix tapes explained in the book cover many songs from the ‘90s, a decade in which I was exposed to some great music for the first time, which got me thinking about things that happened during my young adolescent life. The Verve Pipe’s The Freshman was playing in the background as I took a drag off my first cigarette, and I blared Puff Daddy’s Can’t Nobody Hold Me Down on my walkman as I sauntered home after having my first sips of beer, my Doc Marten Mary Janes kicking up the gravel of an undeveloped neighborhood, one that now contains wallpapered kitchens with all-white appliances and shutters that need repainting. I listened to Sister Hazel as I dyed streaks of my hair with cherry kool-aid and pierced my belly-button with an unsanitized safety pin, the latter of which got me grounded for three weeks. I didn’t mind. It gave me more time to listen to Smashing Pumpkins and Alanis Morissette in my bedroom, my finger on the record button as I listened to the radio, trying to snag as many songs on those plastic tapes as possible.

I wouldn’t have discovered this music on my own. My older brothers listened to hair bands and country, neither of which I had much interest in. I really owe it to Miranda, my best friend at the time, who could chalk up her good taste in music to her high school brother, a boy I desperately wished would look past the fact I was in middle school , take my hand when he drove me home sometimes, and stop calling me “helmet head,” a nickname he gave me for the bad haircut I donned.

I have a box of the mix tapes I made with Miranda, and although I don’t have the means to play them, I know exactly what’s on them. The tape labeled “The Tape” contains Mr. Big’s To Be With You, a song that may be deserving of credit to my last name, “Aero” holds, as you might have guessed, Dream On, Sweet Emotion, and Cryin’ , three songs I listened to until the lyrics floated through my head as I drifted off to sleep at night. “Let it Flow” has some Toni Braxton jams, Jann Arden’s Insensitive, Nobody Knows, courtesy of The Tony Rich Project, and one of my favorites, Space Hog’s In the Meantime.

When flipping through these lost treasures I found something that may be even better than the music itself, a letter from Miranda, explaining the songs she put on a mix tape for me. I’d like to share some of that letter here, and maybe you’ll remember where you were or what you were doing or who you were with when you listened to these songs for the first time, or in our case, on repeat. In no particular order:

First Song—To Forgive, by my favorite person, Billy Corgan. Well, this song definitely has a background with us. Remember BETA weekend? We went roller-blading, and the big dog. We listened to this song over and over again until it was all we could think about.

Keith Sweat’s Twisted. Don’t you remember the bean bag and the chairs? The tootsie rolls and the Christmas lights? I never will, and I know you won’t either.

The next song you introduced me to. This song probably means more to me than it does to you. I remember the Saturday after Erik broke up with me and we went to the mall and I got this tape. I listened to it about a kazillian times while I was on the phone with Michael, waiting for him to switch to the other line and tell me what Erik said. Better than Ezra’s Desperately Wanting.

I listened to this song over and over while I would sit in silence. Wow, what fun you think. Well, actually, I could never be happier doing anything else but sitting in silence. Name by the GooGoo Dolls.

The next song is Alien. I’m about to do a Bush block. Anyways—on 6-2-97 on the phone with Erik I sang this song, and he got mad and accused me of calling him an alien.

Now back to the Nixons. This one will bring back b-ball memories. How we used to blast it in our poor little ears and sing it for Michael. Passion.

This next one was a big one for me after the concert. We listened to it a thousand times before Cameron’s party. Lady Picture Show STP!

Don’t ask me why you like this song. I seriously think it’s the most annoying song, and who in the hell would write a song about the color pink?! (You can guess.)

There’s more, so much more. No one makes mix tapes anymore. Although technology has evolved, the music is still there, creeping back into our lives, reminding us of the things we’ve forgotten and wish we could return to. Love most certainly is a mix tape.

This one is for you, Miranda. Thanks.