My Analog Theory

How an obscure mixtape re-entered my life

A small bit of internet magic happened for me the other day– I discovered a Spotify playlist that was an exact replica of a mixtape that I bought one summer when I was a teenager. The tape, Hotter the Battle: 60 Jamaica 70, was always kind of a mystery to me. The information on the packaging below was all I had, but I listened to it constantly that summer. I haven’t listened to these songs in years, but when I found the playlist the other day, I still knew all the words to every song. I’m listening to it now as I write.

Cassettes are a funny medium for music. A cassette has a time-bound context. For one reason or another you have to stop listening to it– you get a different car, or it's inconvenient, or you wear the tape out. 

Before I found the playlist, the tape had become more memento than music. I remember the day I bought it. I was fifteen years old. Emily’s Army was on our first tour, opening for Bobby Joe Ebola and the Children MacNuggets at a house called the Sea Shanty in Portland, Oregon. We got to town early and went to a record store. I bought this tape and De La Soul is Dead.

Music is coordinated vibration. Before digital recording technology, all recorded music was created by mechanically tracking this vibration on magnetic tape. Some people argue that the conversion of these vibrations from mechanical into digital files inherently changes the sound of classic recordings, like the ones on the Hotter the Battle tape. But generally the music we listen to now, even if it was recorded mechanically, arrives to us digitally, and most people concede that they can’t tell the difference.

 I do think that there is something to be said, however, for the tape’s physicality. It’s something you can hold in your hand. It requires activation– you see the mechanism when you flip it over in the player. This tape in particular is beautiful– silver iridescent plastic with a brown paper label sticker, a red stamp mark that says Hotter the Battle and nothing else. I remember when it lived in the center dash of the car. I see it in the drawer now and get pictures in my head of low summer light in the windshield, early mornings driving to the ocean. 

Beyond the physical, there’s another crucial dimension to the cassette that the playlist doesn’t have. My favorite part about the mixtape is that it never stops. Hotter the Battle: 60 Jamaica 70 is a recording of a DJ doing an hour long vinyl set. Each song transitions seamlessly to the next, articulating the connections between the recordings. So unlike a digital playlist, this cassette isn’t just a compilation of Jamaican songs. It’s a piece of music in its own right, put to tape by DJ Prince Pauper.

I can wax on about the actual cassette, but I am really happy that someone reproduced it on Spotify. The cassette holds a lot of memories, but the songs have finally re-entered my life. At the end of the day, the most important ingredient in the tape’s magic is the music, and the music still hits the same all these years and formats later.

Thanks to Isaac who created the playlist– I wonder how the tape entered their life?