Obsoletely
fabulous
Its fashion
equal may be the polyester leisure suit, but the 8-track
stays in play with collectors who love its quirks
By Christopher Muther,
Boston Globe |
September 18, 2004
For Hilary Brant, it was
love at first sight.
Not the kind of love that
invokes a chorus of gooey violins or a twirl in the sand
on a scenic stretch of beach. But the love that blooms
upon discovering a kindred spirit or a soul mate. It was
at a yard sale 12 years ago that she spotted the stereo
-- undoubtedly referred to as a hi-fi in its halcyon
days -- complete with foam-covered spherical speakers, a
turntable, and an 8-track player.
"It was 1992, and
8-tracks were at least 10 or more years out of fashion,"
Brant says. "I thought it would be a hoot to get some
and play them, and they were really cheap. I decided
that I would start collecting them. But I never thought
it would turn into this."
What that fateful day
turned into was an obsession for the 38-year-old. In the
six-room Back Bay apartment she shares with her wife and
her cats, Brant has amassed more than 7,000 8-tracks.
To those fully entrenched
in the digital age of iPods and CDs, Brant's overflowing
room of obsolete technology prompts the question: Why
would someone invest so much time and money to collect a
format notorious for its unreliability and clunkiness?
"There are lots of good
reasons why the 8-track failed," she says. "But to me
that makes them all the more charming and lovable. They
just seem so campy and cool to me. Nobody has them.
They're big, clunky, and obsolete. Basically they're a
laughingstock. If you were ever the unpopular child in
school, you can relate to the 8-track tape. That's why I
love them."
Despite the fact that the
last 8-tracks were phased out of retail stores in 1982
and from record clubs in 1988 (the last 8-track was
released by either Chicago or Huey Lewis, depending on
who's telling the story), there are thousands of people
(they call themselves "trackers") who still collect the
tapes. There are Web-based chat groups for 8-track
collectors and dozens of websites with hints on how to
care for the fragile tapes. There's even an 8-track
documentary (Russ Forster's "So Wrong They're Right"),
and before the Internet there was a 'zine called 8-Track
Mind.
"It's really taken off
since the advent of eBay," says Malcolm Riviera, who runs the 8-Track Heaven
website (www.8trackheaven.com) and is regarded as
something of a god in 8-track circles. "There are a lot
more people than you'd think who do this. Not many of
them have Hilary's passion. I can only think of a few
people who are as devoted as she is."
Most of the bulky
cartridges in Brant's apartment are contained in a
single room that is packed floor-to-ceiling with all
manner of 8-track paraphernalia. Even the closet is
three layers deep in tapes. Look right, and there's
Petula Clark grinning devilishly from under a blue cap.
Turn left, and the Partridge Family is wishing you a
merry Christmas. There's a box of broken, unspooled
tapes, which resembles a plate of metallic spaghetti,
awaiting repair. Under a table sit some 40 8-track
players. Once-trendy plastic portable players in
assorted primary colors adorn a high shelf.
|
The true centerpiece of this room is
a faux fiberglass fireplace with
imitation logs that glow orange,
thanks to a piece of red tinfoil
that rotates around the light bulb.
Lift the mantel, and you'll find
that the fireplace is actually an
8-track player.
"I found
that in the trash," says Brant, who
is wearing an 8-track T-shirt and a
knowing grin. "Can you believe
someone would throw that out?"
In
fact, many of her prized finds were
destined for the Dumpster -- she
still speaks fondly of the
Thanksgiving she found a trash bag
on the street filled with major
8-track booty, including the
soundtrack of "Pete's Dragon." In
addition to the occasional Dumpster
dive or trash patrol, the rest of
her 8-tracks come from thrift
stores, used-record stores, flea
markets, yard sales, donations from
friends and co-workers, and, more
recently, eBay.
"To
me, it's hard to see why anyone
wouldn't think these are
incredible," she says, glancing
around at the smiling faces of the
Osmonds and Helen Reddy. "Especially
with all the good-looking players
out there. You'd think their appeal
would be obvious to everybody."
The
fact that the 8-track ever managed
to proliferate during the 1960s and
1970s before experiencing a speedy
death in the 1980s is still
something of a mystery. Unlike its
cousin the cassette, the tape is a
continuous loop that can't be
fast-forwarded or rewound
[not true -- 8-tracks may be
fastwound - ED.] The
8-track is divided into four
programs, and often songs are
chopped in half as the player makes
a loud ka-chink sound and changes
from one program to the next.
"That
was an annoyance to a lot of
people," says Michael Fortes, a
27-year-old collector in San
Francisco. "But to me it was
something different that I enjoyed.
The B.J. Thomas song `Mr. Mailman'
just doesn't sound right to me when
I hear it fully intact, since I was
raised on the 8-track version."
Brant
delights in pointing out that many
times a program change would occur
during an 8-track's one big hit.
"There's the Sister Sledge 8-track
that has `We Are Family' on it," she
says. "And the program changes in
the middle of `We Are Family,' which
is the only song anyone knows from
that album."
Those
peculiarities only seem to excite
collectors more. Why else would
people be willing to pay up to $100
for a pristine copy of the "Never
Mind the Bollocks, Here's the Sex
Pistols" 8-track, or spend 10 years
searching for the Thompson Twins'
"Into
the Gap" on 8-track?
In many cases,
8-track collections begin out of
necessity. Riviera, who has a
collection of 25,000 8-tracks in his
North Carolina home (plus an 8-track
player in his Volvo), started
collecting because he was broke, and
most 8-tracks could be had for only
a quarter or 50 cents. John Book, a
33-year-old collector in Washington
state, began because many of the
albums he was looking for could not
be found on vinyl or CD.
|
"Maybe it's a
case of telling
the world, `You
know what?
Eight-tracks
aren't a
forgotten
stepchild. I
will show
respect.'
There's an
appeal to its
flaws," Book
says.
"People
always focus on
the flaws, but
they have to
realize that
between 1965 and
1970 the 8-track
was the best
portable tape
system there
was," says
Malcolm Riviera,
webmaster of the
8-Track Heaven
website.
For Brant, the
decision to go
8-track was
initially driven
by economics.
She had little
money in 1992
and players and
8-tracks were
dirt cheap. But
she also
confesses to
possessing a
"collector's
personality,"
which is clear
on a stroll
through the rest
of her
apartment. A
long, narrow
hallway is
filled
floor-to-ceiling
with books that
she has found at
her job in the
used books
department of
the Harvard Book
Store. In the
middle of the
living room sits
an aluminum
Christmas tree
(complete with
multicolor light
wheel nearby),
that she
estimates has
been spreading
holiday joy
year-round for
four years now.
Brant's passion
for collecting
8-tracks has
landed her a
spot on the VH1
program "Totally
Obsessed."
Earlier this
month, film
crews
interviewed her
and filmed her
Dumpster diving
for tapes in
Allston. She
expects that her
segment will air
sometime in
October.
"The people who
are totally
obsessed with
things on this
show are
apparently a lot
crazier than
me," she says.
"So they did
their best to
make me look
totally crazy so
I'd fit in. They
asked me all the
wackiest
questions, like,
`If your house
was burning,
would you save
your 8-tracks
first?' [She
wouldn't.] So
they could make
me look totally
obsessed."
She stops and
ponders this a
minute, then
adds:
"I guess I am
unusually
obsessed,
because I don't
know anyone else
who has this
many 8-tracks in
their house. But
I don't think
it's a problem."
Her motives for
collecting go
well beyond a
love of bulky,
plastic
cartridges.
Brant is
attempting to
collect a copy
of every 8-track
ever made
because she has
a dream. She
someday wants to
share her
fondness for
8-tracks with
the world.
"I aspire to
start an 8-track
museum," she
says. "What I
need is a rich
patron.
Hopefully
someone like
Bruce
Springsteen or
Elton John will
come along and
think an 8-track
museum is a
great idea and
donate the
royalties from
one of their
songs. With
funding, think
of what you
could do with a
museum. You
could have a
video component
with the
history. The
place could be
decorated '70s
galore with shag
carpeting. It
would be a time
capsule of the
8-track years."
While she's
anxious to share
her 8-tracks
with the world,
she appears
apprehensive at
the idea of
removing the
collection from
her house. Not
only would it
leave her with
an empty space
in her
apartment, but
it would also
leave her
separated from
her love.
"It would be
weird having
them all out of
my house," she
says, looking
around. "And I
can't give tours
of them here.
It's too messy
to pass as a
museum."
Christopher
Muther can be
reached at
muther@globe.com.  |
|
|
|
Back to [CONTENTS]
|