One of things I did when I wasn't blogging for the last three months was the slow process of digitizing my collection of mixed cassettes. I also have a lot of bought cassettes to deal with; its embarassing how long I resisted purchasing CDs for their cheaper cassette cousins. The good news is that I still care very little for audio fidelity so I have no qualms converting all my tapes to mp3s. I'm still a cheapskate!
The process is slow but is made slower as I mull and dwell on my past musical taste. Why do I still love some songs but am embarassed by others? Should I save these songs that I loved for only a little time? And what about the songs that I had recorded only because a friend loved them? And while I begin to think this way, I can't help but do some stocktaking on life in general. What did I have when I was younger and what I have lost?
As of late, I feel that I'm putting a lot of things that once I absolutely loved in my youth "away" as they don't serve me anymore. I see these things more as clutter in my home and a detrius of a life that's now gone. But because these casettes helped me become me, I can't bare the thought of throwing them out. Hence the process of burning them into a personal archive.
I only know of one shrine to one's 15 year old self's tastes: The Disappointment Artist by Jonathan Lethem. I haven't read the book but I'm inclined to after reading its book review in The Observer. I like this quote in particular...
"This is a gem of a book. I can’t think of another that captures so well the livid warmth—later curdling into embarrassment—that characterizes the jejune, impassioned and borderline-pretentious tastes with which we first find, and then lose, ourselves; and it comes illuminated with an adult’s forgiving fondness for the cultural Mussolinis we once were, age 15."I forgiven myself for my music tastes of my youth. And now I can move on.