A ray of recent sunshine. My friend Matt and I went halfsies on a PlusDeck2, and once he was finished using it, he graciously came over here and used his wicked hardware Shaolin training to get it installed on my PC.

Now, why, you ask, would I want such a thing? Wouldn't it be better to simply patiently replace the musical content of old cassettes -- like the amazingly still-in-a-shoebox-in-my-closet copy of Devo's Freedom of Choice, which came along with thirteen other modern classics -- with the much higher sound quality CDs?

Indeed it would, should the desire strike, and I will (probably) not be using the PlusDeck2 to create a tape-hiss-encumbered mp3 of "Girl U Want" any time soon.

However -- from Virginia to Minneapolis to the postdoc years in Pittsburgh, the now-antipodean force of musical delectation and dissemination that is Art Stukas perpetually graced me with mix tapes produced from his personal collection (and, during the Minneapolis years, supplemented by material accessed through his position as one of the few grad-student DJs at the university radio station; proof of his dedication to alternative radio).

The aforementioned shoeboxes are stuffed with the product of Dr. Stukas's relentless determination to complete the musical education of his former roommate, begun so long ago in the cheerfully musty dormitories of the College of William and Mary. The early tapes include fantastic songs from Unrest, Sebadoh, Eugene Chadborne, Jad Fair, Beat Happening, Giant Sand, The Bats, Bastro, Mudhoney, Volcano Suns, My Dad is Dead (a band I rejected at the radio station as mere harshness-for-the-sake-of-harshness until the patient Dr. S. forced me to recant my testimony), The Mekons, The Bevis Frond, The Wedding Present -- to name only a few, mixed in with the occaisional track from more familiar (to me) bands like the Kinks or John Cale or Yo La Tengo. As time marched on, my first exposure to bands like Stereolab were on these tapes and I heard a lot of Pavement songs I couldn't fit into my purchasing budget.

A few years later, the tapes move toward more sonic esoterica: Japanese psychedelia (sorry, Art, I lost the one with Angels in Heavy Syrup on it), Sun City Girls, Six Organs of Admittance. Older tracks from Can, Amon Duul and Sun Ra -- at least, I think they were older. Not always ear candy all the way through, but always worth multiple listens, always mind-expanding and containing some real gems.

These cassettes have been more or less unplayable over the last couple of years, after the last working walkman in the house got packed for the move and is now probably in a box in storage. But no longer. "Yes, She Is My Skinhead Girl" sounds surprisingly good considering its vinyl-to-tape-to-hard drive journey. Let the Shuffling of Art begin.