Two years ago, when I was working on this column’s debut, I wrote about Bruce Springsteen’s “Book of Dreams” and what the song means to Julie and me. During the first month of our courtship I created my first mixtape for her, entitled HEY, HEY, JULIE! On that tape was the Springsteen song, one that’s grown to have profound meaning in our relationship.
We began dating in August of 1992, and soon thereafter, I threw this tape together in a flurry of inspiration, wanting to give Julie something that came from my heart. I don’t recall the actual minutes spent in my parents’ basement picking the songs or laying them down on a Maxell cassette (my brand of choice), but looking back on the list of songs, I’m happy to see they still add up to 90 quailty minutes of music.
Before Nick Hornby wonderfully wrote about what makes a good mixtape in High Fidelity, I assembled exactly the right combination of hip, well known and somewhat obscure songs from my small music collection. Combining big hits like “Learning to Fly,” “What I Am,” and “All This Time” with lesser-known songs by popular artists such as “Until the End of the World,” “Shining Star,” and “Getting to Know You,” while tossing in some hard to find (at the time) songs like “Baby Mine” and “Wild Night” made this tape eclectic, but still enjoyable to listen to and quite accessible. (more…)
Don’t look now, but there appears to be something of a soul revival going on these days, and I’m not talking about that so-called “neosoul,” with its programmed beats, overly autotuned vocals, and lavish productions. I’m talking about the real deal. Soul with a capital S.
Was (Not Was) – Walk the Dinosaur (1989)
Some love stories are full of hideous terror, but some can teach us things, such as that for a not-insignificant portion of the populace, there is apparently something called a “Sexy Canadian thing.” Who knew? Molly Marinik teaches us that some loves actually can be stopped at the border. Pot, too.