In a thoroughly enjoyable romp, Masters delves into the secret history of the cassette tape.
People of a certain age can remember the day they made their first mixtape, putting songs recorded from the radio or borrowed records onto a cheap cassette. This was new; this was personal; this was insubordinate; this was control. Masters, a journalist who contributes to an assortment of publications, sees the rise of the cassette as a critical pivot in popular culture, moving the center of gravity from industry music producers to consumers. This line would end with streaming, but there were many important stops along the way, and Masters examines them all with the passion of a true aficionado. When blank cassettes and recording machines began to appear in the late 1960s, record industry executives went into a panic. However, they were unable to stop the wave, and the music business continued to grow regardless. Bands like Metallica got started with self-distributed tapes, and many others followed. Over time, the recording quality improved. Bruce Springsteen’s classic album Nebraska was recorded on a four-track tape, and the emergence of hip-hop also owed much to the cassette. The Walkman and its clones played to another strength of cassettes: inherent portability. There were many culture commentators who argued that the advent of digital devices would spell the end for the cassette, but Masters responds: not even close. Wandering through the back alleys of the indie scene, he finds a new generation of musicians making good use of cassettes, often mixing found sounds into their recordings. Some of these creators break into the mainstream, but many others are happy to remain underground. "The compact cassette has an uncanny ability to rise from its grave time and again," the author concludes, often in an unexpected form.
With energy, insight, and wit, Masters provides a welcome examination of an often overlooked cultural turning point.