Earlier this year I tried a little experiment wherein I dug up an old mixtape of mine and shared it with the friend who made it for me way, way back when, to get her memories on why she chose the songs and what they mean to her now. I loved the experience and am doing it again, now with my friend Clara, who I met in my very first class on my very first day in high school. Clara and I bonded at summer camp, through mutual friends, over our shared initials (probably partially the reason we refer to ourselves as 'cousins' even though we are technically no), through a love of the Beatles and general cool-nerdery. I cherished her mixtapes in large part due to her super-cool handwriting. I asked Clara to ruminate on one of the tapes she made me, "Memoirs of a Clean Old Man," in high school (so I approximate this tape to come from around 1996 or so.) Go for it, Clara!
What a trip! Here's what I think as I look at these: (1) Ugh. (2) Do I even like any of these anymore? (3) Well, yeah, I do: the Velvet Underground, Dylan, Sam & Dave, the Dead and the Beatles, of course, but not really those particular songs ... (4) Oh man, all that Crosby, Stills, & Nash, so embarrassing. Not to mention that Sly song, which I guess I was trying to be provocative? Or something? Oh gawd, and Simon & Garfunkle? The Young Bloods? (Which song I lifted off the Forrest Gump soundtrack, no less.) What a wannabe hippie ... (5) Wow, I also totally lifted some of these from mixes made by other people. Is that allowed?
And some thoughts on these thoughts: It's embarrassing how deep my embarrassment is. And that reaction is actually something that dates from this period, when I made this mix, or slightly before it, and so the embarrassment is now kind of shaded with amusement, like, man, I know I'm the same person who made this mix because I feel just as strongly about these choices as I did back when I made them. And I also see certain things here that I still love and value in music, especially the gentleness of "Pale Blue Eyes," "April Come She Will," and "Boots of Spanish Leather," and the sweet melodies of "Uncle John's Band" and "That's the Story of My Life," and the fun of "Like a Rolling Stone" (both Dylan and Hendrix), "Went to See the Gypsy," and "Hold On I'm Coming" (the song that's closest to my favorite music these days). So at first this list feels impossibly strange, but then, gradually, it becomes more familiar ...
I know, or suspect, that I made this both because I loved exchanging music with you (I cherish the memory of one mix you made for me, with, let's see, the Kinks, G. Love and the Special Sauce, Urge Overkill, and--is this possible?--Los Lobos, and I still have and freaking LOVE your Elvis Costello mix, with the rad photocopied cover ...) but also because I was exceedingly proud of my taste in '60s music. I.e. I was showing off. I wonder if there's an element of this in every mix? There's the generous impulse (I want you to hear and like this!) and then there's the other impulse, the one I admit I still feel sometimes, re: music, especially when I meet new people: Dude, how cool is it that I like this?
Sorry about all the self-analysis. But, see, this exercise is wild, cousin, and brilliant, I think, because it's a bit like reading your high school diary or the notes scribbled in your senior yearbook. It's a bit like confronting your high school self, at once strange and familiar.
Okay but down to business. This mix was assembled from tapes, both original and copied, on a dual cassette player, a process that I still think is ideal for making mixes, because it requires you to listen to each track in its entirety, and as a result, I think, the transitions are much, much better, much deeper, than you get with mp3 mixes. I'd often choose a song and wait and see what other song came to mind as I listened to it, and put that one next (i.e. transitions were intuitive). Also, there were basically no take-backs, because if you taped over a song there was often a trace of that song left over, certainly in the space between tracks and often in the quieter bits of the new song. In other words, making a mix like this was Serious Business.Â
So the title, "Memoirs of a Clean Old Man," is obviously a reference to our beloved "A Hard Day's Night.", and Paul's grandfather, clean old man that he was.
Okay, I'm going to listen to some of these on YouTube ... (I can't imagine what it'd've been like to have a resource like this in high school.)
"Have a Cigar": A dark, dirty opening, which is clearly why I chose it to start things off. The synth is pretty rad. I got into Pink Floyd in middle school, actually, because a boy I had a crush on was into them, as was the cool older brother of a friend of mine. I don't think I bought Wish You Were Here until high school, though.
"Uncle John's Band": Whoa, okay, so not the best transition. But such a beautiful, warm song, with those tight harmonies. I got this off the Grateful Dead's Greatest Hits, which I bought because it seemed that cool people liked the Grateful Dead. But, like, the Grateful Dead didn't have greatest hits, but whatever. Workingman's Dead, the album on which this song originally appeared, is still my favorite Dead album.
"Pale Blue Eyes": A better transition. I love how close Lou Reed's voice sounds on the mix (of the original track, that is). I learned about the Velvet Underground from a friend and (ahem) former boyfriend of yours, cousin, who let me borrow the amazing box set, Peel Slowly and See. Which was kind of too much, actually. I listened to it all and got into some of it, but then it took me, like, fifteen years to really come to appreciate it all. But, man, what a great song.
"Find the Cost of Freedom": Again from a Greatest Hits collection, ha. Why did I not credit Young? This dates the mix somewhat, since I got into CSN(Y) with my senior year boyfriend.
"Like a Rolling Stone": Okay, obviously a freaking amazing song, and I'm sure I included it at this point to pick up the pace after three quiet songs. Originally encountered on yet another Greatest Hits collection, but I did eventually buy Highway 61 Revisited. On headphones, I can hear the rad upright piano. Sheesh, such a good song. Dylan I got into because who doesn't get into Dylan?
"Long Hot Summer Night": Also from a Greatest Hits collection. (Oy.) A decent follow-up to "Like a Rolling Stone"--the piano is pretty cool here, too. Also a little Dead-ish? Huh. I got into Hendrix, as well, because who (or what high school student) doesn't get into Hendrix?
"April Come She Will": Um, transition? My primary association with this song these days is The Graduate. I don't know if I'd seen it when I made this tape ... I actually think I got into Simon & Garfunkle thru my mom! Footnote: When they were Tom & Jerry, they played a dance at her high school.
"Rainy Day Man": Gosh, I have almost no memory of this song. I also got into James Taylor thru my mom. She bought me Mud Slide Slim & the Blue Horizon, which is totally a good album. And I still love voices like James Taylor's. He's kind of in the same register as Hank Williams, the greatest of them all.
"Went to See the Gypsy": Such a good song. (Tho not as good as "The Man in Me," also on New Morning, and immortalized in The Big Lebowski of course.) Also via my mom! Gee, I don't think I realized at the time how much of this stuff I got from her ... (feeling sheepish for being kind of a jerk to her a lot in high school).
"Age of Aquarius": Oy.Â
"I'm Still in Love with You": Man, such a cool song. I think I found out about Al Green from a Quentin Tarantino soundtrack. The production is crazy on this song. Strings??
"Hold On I'm Coming": Okay, so this one I lifted from another mix, a mix made for a friend by her boyfriend, no less. He was older and worldly, and there was some rad sh*t on there, including "Original Faubus Fables" by Charles Mingus, which totally weirded me out, but then years later I remembered it and wanted to hear it again but had no idea how to find it (I didn't know the title or the artist), but then finally in grad school I discovered Mingus and heard it and was like, "Yes! This!" Anyway. "Hold On I'm Coming" is so freaking good. Also a good end-of-side-one track, I think.
"Let's Get Together": Oy.Â
"Oye Como Va": A pretty silly song.
"Helplessly Hoping": Bizarre transition. See "Find the Cost of Freedom" (above).
"Hard Headed Woman": Hmm not the best Cat Stevens song. I think what I liked was the bridge, the bit about "fine-feathered friends." I hadn't seen Harold & Maude and so hadn't yet heard "Trouble" ... (I think I would've liked it as much then as I do now.) Anyway, a friend's mom turned me on to Cat Stevens (via the Greatest Hits, of course).
"Like a Rolling Stone": Oh man, I think I got this track off a tape of live Hendrix made for me by a guy I briefly dated sophomore year. It's pretty good. I'm remembering, too, that in addition to loosely interspersing up and downtempo songs, I always tried to intersperse long and short tracks ...
"That's the Story of My Life": Kind of a fun transition, not unlike the fun transition on the self-titled album. See "Pale Blue Eyes" (above).
"In My Life": First, a neat pairing (title-wise) with "That's the Story of My Life." (Latent poetic sensibility?) Obviously a (second) nod to our shared Beatles obsession. Not my favorite Beatles song, by any means, but maybe I thought the sound fit with "That's the Story"? I suppose it does ... Or maybe I was feeling preemptively nostalgic, since we'd be leaving for college before too long? Hmm.
"Lo & Behold": See "Rainy Day Man" (above).
"Boots of Spanish Leather": I think I chose this just because it's, like, super quiet.
"Don't Call Me Nigger, Whitey": Ridiculous transition. And again, I guess I was trying to be provocative? It is a pretty fun song tho. I don't remember how I got turned on to Sly.
"Our House": I wonder if I'd planned to end on "Don't Call Me Nigger, Whitey" and then found I had a few more minutes and had to fill 'em with something. (I remember peering at tapes, trying to determine how much time was left on a side ...)
"The Motorcycle Song": A silly song. I still love "Alice's Restaurant" (the song) to death but even then I found Arlo's other work underwhelming.
So that's it! Although, I should say something about the tape itself, and the case: (1) The TDK D90 was totally my tape of choice. 90 minutes of music was so much more badass than 60. (2) I suspect the track listing is on lined paper, rather than the insert that came with the tape, because I messed up on the insert (left out a word, misspelled a name, something like that). I was (and still am) meticulous about such things (it's a bit unhealthy, really).