Move over, vinyl — cassette tapes are the newest old thing to love
The vinyl resurgence has been keeping independent record stores alive for years, and it hit a milestone in 2020: Music fans spent more money on LPs than CDs last year for the first time since 1986.
But the desire to possess an analog recording that you can actually hold in your hands — in a streaming era when everything seems ephemeral — isn’t limited to records. It’s now also about cassette tapes, which are making a comeback.
On Discogs, the online database where fans buy and sell vinyl and other physical products, U.S. cassette tape sales were up 33% last year.
Part of the appeal? New tape releases are cheaper than new releases on vinyl. Phoebe Bridgers’
2020 album “Punisher” sells for $23 on vinyl, said Pat Feeney, owner of Manayunk’s Main Street Music, which this month started to once again devote store space to cassettes. In a florescent green limited edition cassette, “Punisher” went for $10.
The rare-cassette market is also robust, particularly for hip-hop releases from the golden age of the genre, when cassettes were also at their peak. A mint copy of “Illmatic,” the 1994 debut album by Nas, was on sale on Discogs
this week for $13,999.98.
Beyond that, there are music labels, like This & That Tapes, which Joseph Carlough runs out of his Philadelphia home, that deal exclusively in cassettes.
For Carlough, 34, who founded the label in 2019, the appeal of the cassette is its homemade quality. “Cassettes are like the
zines of the music industry,” he says. “Anyone can make a cassette.”
The fragility of the medium — and even the tape hiss — is part of the aesthetic appeal, Carlough says. “There’s something satisfying about watching the wheels turn while you listen, and knowing, ‘I made this.’”
When the medium’s inventor, the Dutch engineer
Lou Ottens, died this month at age 94, he was memorialized internationally for creating the iconic object, which gave rise to the cherished mixtape.
While it takes just minutes to put together a playlist on Spotify or Apple Music, making a cassette mix takes time and tender loving care. As Rolling Stone writer Rob Sheffield put it in his 2007
memoir about music and grief: “Love Is a Mix Tape.”
Last year, This & That released “Word Salad,” a six-song cassette tape EP of songs written and recorded during lockdown by Joe Jack Talcum, guitarist for legendary Philly punk band the Dead Milkmen.
“I love cassettes,” says Talcum, 58, whose given name is Joe Genaro. “I have a love-hate relationship with them – they’re in boxes in my house all over the place. They were the first thing I started recordings on when I was a teen.” He has an ongoing project digitizing old Milkmen shows recorded on cassette tapes and posting them on jacktalcum.com.
The medium still appeals, he says. “A mixtape is cooler than a mix CD, or a playlist. You can put strange funny things and sound effects in there. There’s something human about them.”
Most This & That tapes — like the 2021 release “Mourning Moon,” by Tacoma, Wash., songwriter Lauren Napier and “Pick up the Phone,” a recent one under Carlough’s own synth-pop stage name, A Good Host — are issued in batches of a few hundred.
It costs him $2 or $3 to make them, and he sells them for $8 or $12, splitting profits with the artist. Last year, he had sales of $14,000 and turned a profit for the first time.
But cassettes aren’t just small business. The medium took a turn back into the mainstream with 2014’s “Guardians of the Galaxy,” in which Chris Pratt’s character listens to a mixtape of ’70s hits on his Walkman that’s his only connection to his mother. That soundtrack mix was issued on cassette and became a hit, as have three recent volumes of soundtrack tapes from the