CASSETTE FROM MY EX

Friends, we’re thrilled to announce our latest secret project.  Cassette from My Ex: Stories and Soundtracks of Lost Loves shares sixty hilarious, nostalgic and heartbreaking stories stories all about crushes and mixtapes.

Cassette From My Ex marries confessional culture projects like Mortified, PostSecret, and Six-Word Memoirs with the nostalgia and heartache of Rob Sheffield’s Love Is A Mixtape and gathers these tales of being young, in love, and making mixtapes for your crush.

CFME compiles stories from some amazing writers and musicians: author Rick Moody, The Magnetic Fields’ Claudia Gonson, This American LIfe’s Starlee Kine, The New Yorker’s Ben Greenman, Blender Magazine’s Joe Levy, Improv Everywhere’s Charlie Todd, Mortified’s David Nadelberg–  even a new story from the godfather of the genre, Rob Sheffied.

We put a ton of love into the design, too, with 224 full-color pages designed by noted cassetteophile Lissi Erwin, with cover illustrations by the excellent Hope Gangloff.

Here’s some opening lines to whet your whistle:

“At first, I thought she was an alcoholic lesbian.”
-MC

“I was an Asian guy with long hair who was into Heavy Metal; she was a Latvian dancer who liked to chain-smoke Camels.”
-FJ

“My first kiss ended in bloodshed.”
-JS

“At nineteen, I had violently violet hair and ate mostly egg whites, grapefruit, and cheese.”
-MC

“Long ago, in a city I will not name, I loved a woman, and she punished me for it.”
-BG

It’s available for pre-order at Amazon now for a super cheep price.  Thanks to everyone who made it happen, and we’re psyched to hear what you think.

The kind folks from the Radar series made a special video sharing some of our favorite stories. Here’s more on what they’re up to:  “RADAR is a series of 3 minute episodes that highlight innovative projects and events across different creative disciplines, hangs with creators and founders, and digs deep into process, method and participation…”

Episode 3:
When Jason Bitner (FOUND magazine) discovered a mixtape in his mother’s basement from teenage love, Kate, he realized there must have been a reason he’d held onto the tape for so long. The reason? Memories. Realizing there were more stories of teen heartbreak and discovery from the cassette generation to be found, Jason wrote his, asked friends to contribute, and is now seeing the project go from tape to storytelling site to print anthology. Julie Gerstein (writer, NYLON, Dazed & Confused), Vinnie Angel (filmmaker & product designer), Michael Hearst (writer & composer) and The Magnetic Field’s Claudia Gonson discuss their involvement and the stories behind their tapes.

Enjoy!

I had forgotten about the tape. It was a meaningful gift from I boy I use to love, but I had not forgotten about it’s heart, it’s beauty, and it ‘s ability to make me feel unrepentantly giddy. In 2005 I bought a car. A 2000 silver Passat station wagon. I fell for this car hard and fast. One of its many charms was the fact that it had a tape deck. Come on, 2000, who in their right mind still put a tape deck into a new car?  All I needed in 2005 was a 10 dollar I-pod adapter and the vast world of music stored on my tiny device could flow freely in my new soccer mom worthy ride, yet I really wanted the tape player. I was thrilled.

And then there was the icing on the cake, the box of mixed tapes, stuffed somewhere in the bottom of my coat closet. After a little search and rescue, I found the archive of music from my halcyon days. Including this gem, titled, of course, as any good mixed tape must be.

It is completely homemade, the case is constructed out of cardboard, the song list incorporated into a letter, lovingly typed on yellowing paper and glued, strip by strip, sentence by sentence, onto the outside of the case. It’s filled in with indie rock typical of the era, the Replacements, the Pogues, and Bonnie “Prince” Billy. It’s true eclecticism, heartfelt earnestness, and oddball nature is a mirror of the maker.

I no longer remember if I received it in the mail or if Scott gave it to me in person. The chronology and context are a little foggy, though I am pretty sure the year was 1995. 14 years, what do you expect, whose brain hasn’t gotten a little soft. What is vivid is the love. We were head over heels in that enthusiastic generous early 20’s way. Our relationship was equally romantic, typified by leisurely long weekend visits, the exchange of handmade gifts, and dedicated letter writing campaigns, it was the mid nineties after all and people still put pen to paper. I lived in Chicago. He lived in small town New Hampshire. It was ultimately an unsustainable long distance affair that ended after about a year and a half.

Of the many objects we made for each other, this tape has remained in my possession. I still listen to it from time to time, read the sweet note collaged along its surface at a the periodic red light, and a little bit of giddiness creeps into an otherwise routine ride home from work.

Leslie Baum is a good judge of character, a daily maker of paintings.  She lives in Chicago.

With performances and activities by PostSecret, FOUND Magazine, Mortified, Six-Word Memoirs, Cassette From My Ex, and music by Michael Hearst of One Ring Zero.

Saturday, February 14th 2009
Doors at 8, Show at 8:30, Party til 11
Housing Works Bookstore Café
126 Crosby Street, NYC

Screw roses and candlelight. Nothing says intimacy like sharing secrets, mixtapes, love letters, life stories, your old diary, and a couple of PBRs with total strangers.

We’re in the midst of a cultural revolution—one that takes the minutia of everyday life and elevates it to an art form. From reality television and bestselling memoirs to creative projects celebrating shopping lists and post-it notes, voyeurism and exhibitionism are having a golden age.

This Valentine’s Day, five of the most popular personal media projects offer an unprecedented collaboration. Each will present a song, story, or video, and the creators will answer questions about this growing phenomenon. Michael Hearst of One Ring Zero will perform an original love song based on a six-word memoir of his choice. Audience members will have the opportunity to share a six-word memoir, secret, or other story. A party follows the official event program.

Tickets are $15 at www.housingworksbookstore.org and include a copy of Six-Word Memoirs on Love and Heartbreak or a Mortified, Found, or PostSecret book, while supplies last. VIP tickets are $50 and include three featured books and two drinks. Wine and beer will be for sale.

All proceeds benefit Housing Works.

I grew up in New Jersey in the 80s, in a town that was heavily preppy. My few high school boyfriends were Lacoste-clad, clean cut types, until one summer in college when I met Russ. He bartended with my friend Melissa, and was decidedly not a prep. Unlike the guys in my town, Russ was good-looking but enticingly dipped in a light coating of scunge. Russ’s tastes were simple: he liked beer, classic rock, and hanging out. I promptly joined him, and during that halcyon summer I ditched my prep-wear, got myself some gold chains, and re-permed my perm for added volume. Soon I found myself spending my weekends driving my folks’ secondhand light blue Buick LeSabre “down the Shore,” to Point Pleasant.

Russ and I would drink beers with his ever-present crew of dirtball buddies and then take a wobbly stroll on Jenkinson’s Boardwalk (’Jenks,’ for those in the know.) Then we’d cruise around town, blaring The Doors out the open window. My hometown friends and I had more esoteric musical taste as well as carefully curated record collections, but I was a closet fan of the entire play list of WHDA, the Rock of North Jersey. With Russ, I could love it unabashedly.

Sometimes he would take me to parties at his sister Michelle’s house. Michelle had the best collection of cheesy R&B songs - another one of my weaknesses. Give me a synth-heavy 80s R&B band with a subtle name like Klymaxx or L’Trimm and I am in heaven. I had asked Michelle a couple of times to make me a tape, but to my surprise, the normally recalcitrant Russ gave it a try. Our first – perhaps only - movie that we together was The Lost Boys, so he included a few songs from the soundtrack (hence Tim Capello and Gerard McMann, below.) That was about as romantic as Russ got, but at the time I was deeply moved and read all kinds of symbolism into the songs that did not actually exist.

I’ve since lost the tape’s cover but his faint writing on the tape says Hey Babe. I remember at the time wishing that I had a cooler mix tape like some of my friends had, with songs from Wire or Big Dipper or something. I mean, you know, “Sweet Melissa?” I constantly tried to open his musical mind. Once I gave him a cassette of a New York City band I liked called Cruel Story of Youth. He put one of their songs on his mix tape to me but I guarantee he never gave it a listen beyond that. After a while I came to appreciate that he didn’t try to be self-consciously hip. He just wasn’t interested in alternative bands (nor, mercifully, the requisite William Shatner track that’s funny the first time and thereafter fast-forwarded.) And of course I played that tape to death.

This is a shorter than usual list of songs, because Russ could only be bothered with a 60-minute tape. He had some hanging out to do.

Jancee Dunn grew up in Chatham, New Jersey. She was a writer at Rolling Stone from 1989-2003, where she wrote twenty cover stories for the magazine. She has written for many different publications, among them the New York Times, Vogue, GQ and O: The Oprah Magazine, where she writes a monthly ethics column entitled “Now What Do I Do?”  From 2001-2002 she was an entertainment correspondent for Good Morning America. Prior to that she was a veejay for MTV2. Her novel “Don’t You Forget About Me” is out now on Villard Books. She and her husband live in Brooklyn, New York.