Death of the mix tape

I've finally returned from the many adventures that took me away from the world of Binking. Apologies for the disruption in service.

A quick summary of what I've been up to:

Glastonbury Festival.
Very muddy, but very good. Highlights were Kaiser Chiefs, Brian Wilson, White Stripes, avoiding trenchfoot. Over the next few days I'll tell you about some of the other highlights and point you in the direction of some good music I discovered there.

Live8 in London. Involved lots and lots of standing. Missed most of REM because I was queueing for the loo for ages (eventually discovered that there was a couple having sex in there. Nice). Madonna was embarrasing, The Who were stunning.

Batman Begins at the IMAX cinema in Bradford.
Wow. I now know all of Christian Bale's pores in great detail.

Before all of this happened though, a terrible thing happened. I decided to make a few tapes for the journey down to Glastonbury when I discovered that my tape-deck no longer works. This combined with the fact that they've stopped producing blank audio cassettes means that I will never again make a mix tape. Ever.

Like many like-minded music-lover, I've spent many an hour carefully compiling perfect mix tapes, creating very carfully balanced ninety minute playlists for myself and for friends. The artwork and titles were as important as the music - one of my best tapes was called 'Spider-Man In Hell'. I'm still not sure why. But I will never know that joy again. As much fun as it is whacking all of your music straight into iTunes, there was something very beautiful and spiritual about imprinting yourself onto an audio cassette, creating a time capsule of your tastes and feelings.

Sigh.