Plastic Love: My adoration for making cassettes & CDs ^_^

OPINION | ARTS | HANGA / CRAFT

Written by Jack Lai (he/him) | @jackaltheblackal | Contributing Writer

Illustrations by Mikaela Stroud (they/them) | @azure.sparks | Contributing Artist

If you journey far enough down Queen Street and traverse through the twists and turns of the snuggly labyrinth that is the Queen Street Arcade shops, you may find yourself at the bijou, yet comfy, Marbeck’s. While the store entrance view is a little obscured – especially when presented with an imposing escalator in the middle of a narrow aisle, which makes the whole place look like a mid-2010s Bandcamp vapourwave album cover – it almost acts as an intentionally misleading concealment of one of the CBD’s greatest kept secrets. 

For melomaniacs, places like Marbeck’s are magical places to indulge yourself (like no way, they made the place from Persona 3 a real thing). I remember the first time I stepped into the store, where I, to my shock and excitement, found a King Krule album on wax – something I had never come across before. Provided with generously varied sections in genre, from both international and local artists, anyone can appreciate the curation of CDs and vinyl records available. I always wrap up my visit by grabbing their catalogue of favourite albums. While I never actually buy any, it keeps me in the loop with what’s new, outside of my usual listens. Record stores always end up becoming a wormhole portal that, unbeknownst to me, drains chunks of hours out of my day, right before the realisation that three Canvas assignments are all simultaneously due at 11:59 pm. 

Despite my own and many others' love for in-person browsing, we may be seeing these stores dwindle with the increase in online consumer culture, shifting business owners toward the appeal of a purely digital retail presence. As of when this issue is published, Marbeck’s will be having their closing sale as the storefront transitions into an online model as of October 31st, due to pressures of keeping up with the behaviours of music consumers. As current owner Roger Marbeck put it in a recent Stuff article, the space for a record store in the modern market is “just not feasible in a physical retail setting.” As a long-time regular, it’s a quote that is harsh to hear, and reflects our post-COVID world, which has grown indifferent towards the charm of physical storefronts I have grown to adore. 

Sure, it can be frustrating when a random album is misplaced underneath another unrelated artist’s section – but I’m willing to let it slide if it means I can discover a copy of Miles Davis’s ‘Round About Midnight’ on vinyl when looking under the tab divider clearly marked “Earl Sweatshirt”. What I’m trying to say is that if you limit yourself to purely online browsing, you’ll never have the experience of sifting through a bunch of albums, and before you find the one you’ve been looking for, you accidentally come across a record that catches your eye better instead. It’s also a much warmer experience being greeted and served by passionate locals who love the records on the shelves that surround them every day. It’s because of these experiences that this passion has become an infectious one, as it continues to expand my musical tastes and interests. 

A cassette tape of the Macross anime soundtrack is probably the coolest example of physical merchandise from my collection, where in the oddball scenario if I’m asked by a random stranger to name three songs of an anime series from the 1980s nobody cares about (it’ll happen trust me), I can say I own the lyrics to the whole album, on a folded piece of paper smaller than a gameboy pocket.

No matter how it’s played, the music, of course, speaks for itself. However, when I do buy the physical copy, I usually find myself appreciating the additional elements of personalisation artists may incorporate, which only adds to the listening experience. The sentimental value I hold for physical merchandise as a fan meant that, when it came to me as an artist, I felt inclined to give back to the listeners who want to support the musician behind the art they loved, through creating something tangible for them to hold onto and cherish.

And so, my personal experience went beyond just being another busy music nerd frothing over albums, as I would find, record places like Marbeck’s would have an everlasting imprint on my approach to crafting physical goods within my journey as an upcoming musician.

Flashback to July of this year, when I was brainstorming something noteworthy to create for my upcoming headliner gig on the 9th of August, under the name, jackaltheblackal. After some deliberation and inspiration from my personal collection, I decided I was willing to go through the DIY process of making CDs for my newest album, ‘GUNS AKIMBO (0-VII)’, so attendees could take something home with them. I took notes from the same Macross cassette, which also happened to come packaged with bonus prints from the show – including exclusive concept artwork. Indeed, exclusivity is an essential aspect when it comes to physical goods & music, and how a listener feels compelled to support an artist’s work from that personalisation. Of course, I’m not talking about musical exclusivity’s extreme case of a certain rapper selling only 28 copies of his album solely on wax, each for a price upwards of $5,100 NZD. Personally, I have always been charmed by how creative artists can get with how they approach the presentation of their physical media. American musician, Ginger Root, who performed at the annual Music Awards Japan ceremony in July, went as far as to release a feature-length film on VHS tape to promote his album ‘SHINBAGUMI’. The boundless opportunities within physical merchandise production allow musical artists, such as Ginger Root, to apply their multifaceted creative skillset to unearth otherwise hidden layers of the listening experience for fans.

Now, unfortunately, I do not have the financial backing to make a whole film for my album, let alone have Adult Swim funding for that (they would likely be lending a $25 budget anyway). Nor did I have the time either, because, well… it may have also been a last-minute decision to sell physical goods at my show. But that didn’t stop me from wanting to create something tangible for the listeners of my music, whom I appreciate. With a crate of junk cases, spare blank discs, and my own printed album artwork, it didn’t take long for me to create a stack of my own album on CD, all packaged with a slick artwork & lyric print. And just like that, I was ready to make waves on the night.

As the doors opened to the show, which was supported by two other super-talented artists from Tamaki Makaurau: WAIWHAI. & big al., concertgoers had already crowded around the ticket desk where I had been sitting, asking to purchase a CD. Right before my band’s set, I had already sold more than half of the batch at the venue entrance - almost questioning if I had unconsciously put up an Instagram story one hour before the show, saying, “mandatory CD purchase to gain entry!”. Once the night came to a satisfying end, filled with colourful jazz-rap talent all across the board, it didn’t take long to find the paper bag that held my stack of CDs, which was now empty… all sold out. For fans who requested a CD but weren’t able to attend on the night, I was more than glad to make more for those who wanted to go the extra mile by supporting.

It’s no secret that digital streaming services pay artists very little, which furthers the discussion of alternative methods of supporting creatives in music. Orlando Cooper, bassist of local jazz-pop fusion band ‘Psycho Gab’ and a close friend of mine, who helped tremendously with the gig and making of the album CDs, has been quite vocal about this long-standing issue. Previously, he took to the band’s Instagram, speaking on the tremendous support from fans and the benefit the band gains from CD purchases at gigs. When describing the rough reality of   digital streaming income for music artists, he explained that it doesn’t provide much, and that “The way things are shouldn’t be permanent.” One major takeaway I took from him was a simple message directed at artists: “Be creative”. The options of presenting your art are endless, and at the end of the day, there will be listeners who are there for it and are airmailing you strength. 

Despite the deeply crushing realisation that I’ll never be able to see my CD on the glorious shelves of Marbeck’s, I will always be grateful for how they introduced me to physical vinyl records – a catalyst to what would end up being the incentive to create CDs for my own music. Of course, I will miss picking up and deliberating the purchase of that one John Coltrane vinyl with the inconspicuous coffee stain on the back (I’m sure that record will be passed down to less safe hands). But I feel more empowered as a musician with everything I’ve learnt from these experiences. Spending hours on end flicking through vinyl, wasting my youth, lost in a record store… it was there that sparked my adoration for physical goods, and to create them within my own art. Get live in the season.