REWIND SPOTLIGHT: A Life in Mix Tapes from Radio Recordings to Thrift Store Finds

By the time I was in grade school, I had already developed a deep love for music—not just as background noise, but as something I could shape, control, and make my own. In the 1980s, in the quiet, tree-lined streets of the Lakeside neighborhood in Duluth, Minnesota, my first foray into music curation began with a humble cassette tape and a radio.

Every week, I would sit by my radio, fingers poised over the “record” and “play” buttons of my tape recorder, waiting for my favorite songs to come on during the top songs of the day program on our local popular music station. It was an art in itself—the anticipation, the delicate timing, the frustration when the DJ talked over the intro of a song I loved. This was my way of building my own personal soundtrack, one that would accompany me on car rides and free me from the tyranny of my dad’s classic rock station. At the time, I resisted his choices—music from the 1960s and 70s that felt impossibly old. Yet, by the time high school rolled around in the 1990s, I found myself drawn back to those very songs, hearing in them something I had previously overlooked: the echoes of my father’s own youth, his own mix of memories wrapped in melody.

By the 90s, the mix tape had evolved beyond the crackly radio recordings of my childhood into something more intentional. Armed with a growing CD collection, I meticulously crafted mix tapes that reflected my moods, my friendships, and my experiences. In a pre-MP3 world, this was the ultimate form of personalization. I could lift only the songs I loved from my CDs, dodging the filler tracks, and arrange them in an order that made sense to me.

These tapes became my constant companions, especially during my high school jobs delivering newspapers. My morning route for the Duluth News Tribune and my Saturday deliveries for the Duluth Budgeteer took me through over 15 blocks of Lakeside, the houses growing familiar, the seasons marking the shifts in my routine. In the summer, I would take shortcuts through yards, music drifting from my Walkman as the sun rose over Lake Superior. In the winter, those same routes became more treacherous, the snow forcing me to take longer paths, my breath fogging the air as I trudged from house to house. But through it all, my mix tapes provided a steady rhythm, a curated soundtrack to the quiet solitude of early mornings spent delivering the news.

Looking back, I realize that those mix tapes were more than just collections of songs. They were artifacts of a time before instant streaming and algorithmic recommendations, a time when making a mix required effort, patience, and a kind of artistry. Every tape told a story, whether it was a carefully crafted gift for a friend, a declaration of love unspoken, or simply a reflection of who I was at that particular moment in time.

Even now, when I stumble across an old cassette, I’m instantly transported back—to the thrill of recording songs from the radio, to the meticulous crafting of playlists in my teenage bedroom, to the crisp mornings of my newspaper routes with music in my ears and the city slowly waking around me. The mix tape may have faded into nostalgia, replaced by digital playlists and on-demand streaming, but its essence remains—an act of curation, a love of music made tangible, a way to capture the fleeting moments of life in a spool of magnetic tape.

In recent years, I have taken up a Walkman-style cassette player again and started collecting cassettes from thrift shops and antique stores. Among my finds are mix tapes curated by strangers, each carrying a piece of someone else’s musical soul. One of my favorite discoveries is a mix tape featuring the music of the Dave Brubeck Quartet, a glimpse into the listening habits of an unknown kindred spirit. Holding these tapes, listening to their carefully chosen tracks, I am reminded that the magic of the mix tape never truly fades—it just waits to be rediscovered.

CARTOON PLAYBACK        

Take On Me (1985)

This week's animation spotlight turns to one of the most iconic music videos of all time: Take On Me, the groundbreaking 1985 hit by Norwegian band A-ha. Combining live-action and rotoscope animation in a way never before seen in popular music, the video tells a whirlwind love story that seamlessly blurs the line between fantasy and reality.

Directed by Steve Barron and brought to life by animator Michael Patterson, Take On Me follows a young woman who, while flipping through a comic book in a café, finds herself literally pulled into its illustrated world. There, she meets A-ha's lead singer, Morten Harket, depicted as a dashing, hand-drawn hero. The two embark on a thrilling escape from mysterious pursuers, leaping between the sketched, monochrome world of the comic and the full-color reality of the real world.

The rotoscoping technique used in Take On Me—where live-action footage is meticulously traced frame by frame—took months of painstaking work, resulting in a uniquely fluid and dreamlike animation style. The effect was revolutionary for its time, earning the video a permanent place in music history.

Beyond its technical brilliance, Take On Me is a perfect visual companion to A-ha’s soaring synth-pop anthem, encapsulating the hopeful longing of young love and the desire to step into something extraordinary. Its influence endures, inspiring artists and filmmakers decades after its release. Even today, the video remains a staple of 80s nostalgia, proving that some stories—and songs—are truly timeless.

TIME CAPSULE        

The Launch of MTV (1981)

On August 1, 1981, a new era of music began when MTV (Music Television) aired its very first broadcast. What started as an experimental cable channel quickly became a cultural force, transforming not just how music was heard, but how it was seen.

MTV’s debut song, Video Killed the Radio Star by The Buggles, was a fitting introduction to the seismic shift in the music industry. No longer was music solely an auditory experience—visual storytelling now played a crucial role in an artist’s success. The network’s 24-hour music video format gave musicians an unprecedented platform, elevating the careers of artists like Michael Jackson, Madonna, and Prince, whose videos became just as iconic as their songs.

At first, MTV’s reach was limited to select markets, but demand skyrocketed. The channel’s rapid growth coincided with the rise of home cable, making music videos an essential part of youth culture. The visual medium encouraged creativity, pushing directors and artists to craft short films rather than simple promotional clips. Take On Me by A-ha, with its groundbreaking rotoscope animation, exemplified the kind of artistic innovation MTV helped popularize.

However, MTV wasn’t without controversy. The network faced criticism for its lack of diversity in the early years, which eventually led to shifts in programming. By the mid-80s, the channel had embraced a broader range of artists, reflecting the evolving landscape of popular music.

The impact of MTV is undeniable. It shaped not only the music industry but also fashion, advertising, and youth culture itself. Though the network has since moved away from its original music video format, its legacy remains. The music video revolution it sparked continues today, with online platforms like YouTube carrying on the visual storytelling tradition that MTV pioneered.

As the channel’s first broadcast famously declared, “Ladies and gentlemen, rock and roll.” And rock and roll would never be the same again.

THE ADVENTURES OF JAYCE & HACHI