Holly was bearding for me the other night at dinner (My Grandmother thinks that H and I are getting married), where she turned to me, in mid-discussion of the summer mix I'm working on, and remarked upon hearing I was doing a two-parter that the ethos of the mixtape format had previously defined the nature of the sets themselves.
That is, to paraphrase her, having two sides defined the differences in those two sets but forced a connection between them, and now that's all gone into the ether with the waning of the cassette.
I had to fight back a spit-take on account of her having managed to speak aloud virtually identical thoughts to my own. She's always been my breaks groupie, so I shouldn't have been surprised.
In a fit of summer nostalgia, no doubt inspired by Janie's countdown last week, I went back and found a tape of mine that encompasses the peak of the two sided mixtape mentality (not to mention the height of that era's prominent wave of breakbeats).
That tape was The Gospel of Subsonic Funk
Side A is a fast builder, rough and ragged from the start with a gigantic build to a hip-hop disco payoff.
Side B takes a different vibe, finds more forks in the road, and has no implied destination.
My next set will be a two-parter, reminiscent of that mindset, with an even deeper contrast. Watch this space.