Music: The Romance of Bootlegged Audio-Cassettes

A couple of years ago, as a new blogger, I wrote a paean to the long-playing record (LP). I still believe that a true music connoisseur will always prefer listening to LPs than to compact discs (CDs). CDs provide crystal-clear sound, but sound soulless. LPs on the other hand can be temperamental and are high-maintenance. Only someone who truly loves music will take the trouble of owning, maintaining and playing LPs. The sound of an LP is so rich and natural. LPs have personalities of their own. CDs do not.

Besides, perfection is not always everything it is cracked up to be, anyway. A little bit of imperfection always makes anything more interesting. Please read my blog on the long-playing record to find out more about that particular subject.

Today, while surfing the Internet, I stumbled across an astonishingly powerful cover version of “Almost Cut My Hair”; a classic 1969 song by Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young (CSNY). Listening to it brought back a flood of memories, of youth and life in college in India, when the most pressing concern we had was whether we had enough money to buy a quarter of rum. I still remember the beat-up old CSNY LP (which contained this song) that a friend of mine loaned me in 1984. I rushed to dub the LP onto a Sony audio-cassette.

Those were innocent, fun-filled days when my friends and I would gather at my home to listen to bootlegged audio-cassettes. Much of the music I still listen to today I first heard on an audio-cassette. I still remember where I was and what I was doing when I first listened to the Who’s “Baba O’Riley” with its beautiful violin solo. I borrowed a bootleg cassette of the “Who’s Next” album from a friend. He was very reluctant to loan it to me. I don’t blame him. I would have been reluctant too.
I used to take a bus back from my college in Matunga to my home in Bandra. I wasted no time and started listening to the cassette the moment I got onto the bus. I had a brand-new Walkman, gifted to me by my uncle who lived in the US. This was 1984, and owning a Walkman in India back then was a big deal. I remember playing “Baba O’Riley” on the Walkman in the bus, and as it wound its way through the slum of Dharavi, the violin solo at the end of the song came through the headphones. The hair on the back of my neck stood up. I had never heard anything so beautiful, so immediate. I wanted to grab hold of the passenger sitting next to me and say “Listen to this!”

I had many enjoyable evenings (and afternoons) listening to bootlegged audio-cassettes of “Who’s Next”. The audio-cassette had an audible hiss and eventually wore out. When this happened the spool would get entangled in the tape recorder, and I would painstakingly unspool it and make sure the tape did not break. I was a pretty good “cassette surgeon”. But bootlegged audio-cassettes were all that broke college students could afford back in those days. Besides, it wasn’t easy to get original albums of the music I wanted to listen to, since these albums were simply not available in India at the time. Therefore, bootlegged cassettes were the only way to go.

This was how it worked. Someone you knew usually knew somebody who had an elder brother who owned the Cream’s “Disraeli Gears” LP. Since you were a big fan of Eric Clapton and the song “Sunshine of Your Love”, you made it a point to get know the somebody in question. Over tea and a cigarette at the corner tea-shop, you begged and pleaded with him to speak to his elder brother and ask him to loan you his copy of the “Disraeli Gears” LP for just a day. You impressed upon him how careful you were with other people’s things, especially other people’s LPs (this was true).

After much coaxing, you got the LP you wanted. Then you ran home and promptly taped it on the best Sony audio-cassette you had, and invited all your friends to drop by and have a listen. I was always the “music guy” back in college, which made me pretty popular. Some of the best friends I made were at these music listening sessions we had. I turned on a lot of people to rock and jazz music. I often wonder what happened to all of those people, and whether they still listen to “Sunshine of Your Love” and “Almost Cut My Hair”.

The last time I was in the US, I met an old buddy of mine from the 1980s who now lives there. He is wealthy, married and has a family; he is a poster-child for the successful Indian immigrant. He picked me up from the airport. While we were driving back to his home, he turned on the radio, and the Who song “The Seeker” came on. He turned to me and said; “I first heard this at your place more than twenty years ago”. Then we both proceeded to sing the lyrics of the song at the top of our lungs all the way home. For a few moments, the years melted away and we were teenagers again.

The next time I get home, I will try and find the old bootlegged cassettes of “Sunshine of Your Love” and “More Than A Feeling” and play them. I now own these albums on CD, but listening to music on CD just doesn’t give me the same thrill.

Those old carefree days are gone forever. But maybe those memories can be recaptured for just a little while when I listen to those old bootlegged cassettes. Baba O’Riley still lives (fans of the Who will know what I am talking about).