The tapes came in a big white envelope. My address was written by hand. I liked this, because I could envision someone who actually sat down at a table or a desk, took a pen, and from a piece of paper copied the address, taking care to spell it properly. A sticker in one corner showed the pre-stamped address of crustacés tapes. This, too, was the result of an hour at the laboratory and, apparently an insignificant work, carried out with care.
The envelope was full of little surprises. There were four tapes, each in their own wrap of paper, but I took also a green and a blue piece of paper out of the envelope. They were postcard size and also postcard weight. One was a very pale green with thin blue lines on it; the other was a very pale blue.
In his critique of the Montréal Tape Run, Ed Pinsent, one of the more imaginative reviewers around, says: „I also like the fact that so little is “explained”, that there are no printed biographies of the creators that can sometimes seem so self-serving and pretentious, and not a web link in sight. Hand-made cassette tapes, sounds recorded without use of a laptop, and a typewritten note – it confirms to me that I’m right to stay in love with the “old” world of tangible objects!”
“Tape recorders are nefarious because one falls into the trap of believing that the tape recorder thinks, and so we disconnect our brains the moment we plug in the cord. A tape recorder is a parrot, it has ears but it doesn’t have a heart. It does not pick up details so our job is to listen beyond the words, pick up on what is not said and then write the complete story.”
The table is filled with Italian magazines from the fifties, and with what is remained from their pages.
Nothing has changed. The magazines and snippets of paper in various dimensions still cover my table. I had a break of a few days to do some other things. The sun shines fiercely. The wind sends cold messengers that sneak through the warm layers of air. We are a few days away from the first day of spring. The year is 2014.
Sometimes a few raindrops fall. One of the cats is pregnant.
Fog comes, fog goes. It must be looking for a place to stay. The sea is turning into its summerly color azure. Birds are out; birds are loud. The lemon tree has flowers, and oily-green new branches sprout with fervor from its main stem. The table is still full of scratches of paper, magazines, things to write and stamp with. There is a bottle of water right in my view. It contains water, we got from a well.
The second edition is dedicated to fifty years of tapes. We offer the picture and the story that explain why tape had some importance in someone's life at a given time.
Packaging was one of the unique selling points of Trumpett Tapes. The Trumpett marketing department realized from the beginning that just a cassette in a plastic box was not enough to draw the attention of potential buyers in a music shop, even if it was a shop specialized in cassettes only. We have put a lot of effort in design, strange packages and all kind of extras.