Mixtapes. They’re a minefield. I mean, you only ever really make them as an expression of love, or devotion or something like that. Either that or as the soundtrack for some serious lovin’ and so it’s a bit difficult to make them for someone without it being interpreted as “here is a free pass to my knickers, do with it as you wish.” All this means it is a bit impossible to make one for someone with purely platonic intentions. Which is shame; I always really liked making mixtapes when I was in a relationship and it seems a bit sad that I couldn’t present a friend with a collection of songs that remind me of them, or which I think they might like without it being massively weird.
But even when it is someone with whom you are romantically linked, the first mixtape is still a gauntlit to run. You’ve got to get the tone right not too serious; not too flippant and then you’ve got to strike the right balance between songs which remind you of your significant other and songs which you think they might enjoy. I think my ex (*waves* I know you read my blog sometimes, so I shall say a friendly hello in case you are reading this one) learnt the hard way that one really hadn’t ought to open with a song with the lyrics:
“I could have treated you better/ but you couldn’t have treated me worse”
no matter how much your girlfriend likes Ben Harper. The same goes for Bill Withers’ Use Me Up or else you are likely to get a confused call on Valentine’s day asking if this mixtape was in fact just some elaborate way of dumping her.
Then there’s the entirely different matter of making a mixtape or playlist to set the mood for a night of passion. I’m not really sure what the rules for this are, to be honest; I only ever really make playlists for driving, which are full of jingly-jangly upbeat music to try and combat the feeling of dread and panic which floods me whenever I take the wheel. And I’m not too sure there are many parallels to be drawn between the two experiences.
Spotify have jumped right this trend with their “play safe!” campaign. I get continually bombarded with these adverts for not going bareback (I must have checked the box that said “I enjoy casual, unprotected sex with strangers” box which they hid between age and gender) and to tie in with the campaign they’ve put up these playlists that various artists have created for just such an occasion.
They are, on the whole, enough to cause a severe case of vaginismus; there are few things which turn me on less than the sound of Rod Stewart crooning “spread your wings/let me come in side”. Yeah, I’m going to guess that both the inclusion of “wings” and the spelling of “come” were typos. Added to this, there’s AC/DC’s Let me put my love in you. Few things could make me gather up my under garments and make a swift exit quicker than these playlists. Even if they’re tongue in cheek, they’re still horrendous. If you’re going for the lols then surely Sheena Easton’s Sugar Walls is a much more subtle way of achieving them? And it can’t be that knowing; there’s I Just Called to Say I Love You and Against All Odds. It’s enough to make me want to vom over my keyboard. Either go all out and have NIN’s Closer, The Amateur Transplants‘ Titanic, Easton’s Sugar Walls, Donna Summer’s I Feel Love etc if giggly sex is your thing, or put together something nice and unobtrusive, with lots of Dylan and later Bright Eyes. But really, Cock rock and power ballads? No one in their right minds will be wooed by that. Sort your shit out, Spotify.
