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3.23.2014

IN THE SUPER AVILYN OF YOUR LOVE




"Every mixtape tells a story. Put them together and they add up the story of a life." - Rob Sheffield, Love Is A Mixtape


I am a tiny master of mixtapes with battle plans and The Distance Between Us was my ground zero. It had a Fra Lippo Lippi title track and the songs ran out of air on Side B. Corny, melodramatic, unremarkable but primordial. And a hit. Also, I got better at it.

I came to mixtapes with no guru nor method. I just knew to make them and what to make them for. I thought myself alone in the endeavor, a lonesome freak. And it wasn't until much later that the point of making one veered away from the romantic and that I would meet others with passions just like mine. But back then, everybody else around me just bought greeting cards. Some took the trouble to write love letters. I wrote some of my own, too, and ghost-wrote a few. But I couldn't help myself. Mixtapes verged on the sort of social deficit that makes ordinary people give bedroom shut-ins like me odd looks. And I do have some way with words. But there are spots they can't hit that words with a tune under it can.

" . . . that's how you tell (someone) you like them, you make them tapes of songs that are secretly about how you feel . . ." - Mary Jane Watson, Sensatonial Spiderman Annual 1 : To Have And To Hold

I make mixtapes for the world, old friends, new friends, future friends. With toil and trouble. And a programmers' zeal. But it's the type Mary Jane talks about that's my original bill of goods, my kung fu . This type of mixtape is the shared conspiracy of the tongue-tied and terrified, smoke signals to possible lovers, coveting your attention if nothing else but can I carry your books and walk you home and can we talk from time to time and maybe dance a little and how did you like the third song on Side B? I was born with benign stage fright, the quintessentially and at times painfully shy guy with a slightly overdeveloped mush gland. I came to mixtapes naturally. I never figured Mary Jane to be the sort who would,though.

That bit with the mixtape's from when she and Peter Parker were still teenagers stumbling into each other. She overcame her shyness, Peter never quite did. But in tracing their invincible history Matt Fraction and Salvador Larocca's To Have And To Hold nails their dynamic - - -and makes me believe in the social anomaly of their union more than Douglas Sirk can: headstrong movie star who can have anyone she wants marrying her nerdy high school science teacher childhood friend. I've re-read this too many times to count and not only does it still get all swoony but it still leaves no shred of doubt that the title would have been better off had Joe Quesada not put the marriage asunder.

Fraction milks everything J.Michael Straczynski believed in one last time here and gives it throb. And the throb will have to do until the next status quo. "I'll be back," Peter tells himself as he says goodbye to Mary Jane in one of many flashback sequences. "I swear. For you, I'll always be back." Leaving is chickenshit and staying takes guts. Superhero guts.

Rob Sheffield and his wife Renee in Love Is A Mixtape had the same dynamic as Peter and Mary Jane. Like me and like Peter, Sheffield's a semi-reformed bedroom shut-in prone to backslide, too. And Renee was the girl whose lust for life lured and kept him out of it. Tornado and her wallflower. It's the same . . . no, it's the only dynamic I can aspire to.


"Girls take up a lot of room. I had a lot of room for this one." - Rob Sheffield (Love Is A Mixtape)

" . . .there was nothing about her that promised to be easy but I couldn't keep away . . maybe that's why she fascinated me so much,I couldn't explain her, that girl confused me to the core . . ." (Peter Parker on Mary Jane Watson, Sensational Spiderman Annual 1:To Have And To Hold)

Rob saw Renee from a distance. That's how it almost always starts. With a sighting and the minutest tic that means nothing to anybody else but is the world to you and throws your chemistries slightly out of whack right before matters get worse. "The bartender put on Big Star's Radio City. Renee was the only one who perked up." Not to say that liking the same music foolproofs a relationship or that it should matter, really, but even the littlest overlap tends to fuel-inject it. And it isn't as hell on the mixtapes.

"I don't know what your type is. I don’t know what your deal is. I don't even know if you have a boyfriend. I know I like you and I want to be in your life, that's it, and if you have any room for a boyfriend, I would like to be your boyfriend, and if you don't have any room, I would like to be your friend. Any room you have for me in your life is great. If you would like me to start out in one room and move to another, I could do that." - Rob to Renee

Rob and Renee had more than a little overlap. They had the same favorite band (Pavement) , the same favorite Meat Puppets album and the same favorite songs as kids (Andy Gibb's I Just Wanna Be Your Everything). And they constantly spoke their love through the mixtapes they made for each other during their brief 5 year marriage. Love Is A Mixtape is like some wish-fulfillment fantasy for me, if only for that part. But, unlike Peter and Mary Jane, Rob and Renee are real people. And it's no secret that halfway through, Renee dies of a pulmonary embolism.

Love Is A Mixtape is a long goodbye that hurts terrible bad near the end with a hurt that gets sticky and gains weight long after. Like To Have And To Hold, it's all about the gravities of the past, how you cling to it for oxygen, how you sometimes have to discard it for diesel. But as you reel from the wallop of its immense sadness, it's easy to overlook the positivity it exudes. Five years, five days,five minutes,who cares. True love found Rob and Renee in the end , like Daniel Johnston predicted, and 'til death did they part, singing songs until the last last minute. I find that . . .well, beautiful. And not a little comforting. Cynicism is society's cop-out. It's too easy. And you're no less lost anyway. "I'm scared . . . " Renee tells Rob the first night they come together and aren't we all? Love Is A Mixtape doesn't let you off the hook, it raises the stakes and makes it scarier. I used to snicker at exes and their beloved chick flicks. But I sort of get them now when I re-read this and it restores my perhaps naive faith in the second (third?fourth?) coming of a perhaps false god: the tornado that loves you and the perfect mixtape you can' wait to make for her.

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