Title: Love is a Mixtape: Life and Loss, One Song at a Time
Author: Rob Sheffield
Publisher: Crown Archetype
Copyright © 2007 by Rob Sheffield
I read the Kindle version of the book. It is not relevant, but I must say digital goods are very comfortable.
The book is an author’s autobiography. Here we’re going to find a good place filled with nostalgia. Rob is the narrator, and he’s going to tell us the story of how he met Renée and how the mixtapes became a considerable part of his life.
The mixtapes defined Rob, his passion for music, and his current work. Mixtapes helped him to gather new bonds. Mixtapes made him grow to be the person he is today.
But how is the book written? The book relies on imagery. His memories are well-put on paper since we can imagine everything he’s describing.
We have a couple of time skips, which are required because, as readers, there are many things irrelevant to a story. Just take a look at our own lives. Would you like to read a book about every single second of your life? I sure won’t; there are days, weeks, or even years where nothing exciting happens.
Rob succeeded in taking us on a nostalgia trip. There are many references to the most especial decades of rock and pop, the seventies to the nineties. I could not help but smile whenever I read something about the bands or genres we loved and danced.
We must remember, though, that life is not perfect. Life is not hundred percent about love and success. In everyone’s life, there will be a loss, and this is not an exception. Sheffield, as the title states, talks about something more than just his love for the mixtapes.
I suddenly realized how much being a husband was about fear: fear of not being able to keep somebody safe, of not being able to protect somebody from all the bad stuff you want to protect them from. Knowing they have more tears in them than you will be able to keep them from crying.Rob Sheffield
It’s hard to think about losing someone. It is even harder to believe that that loss could come at any time. Death is unpredictable; one day, the love of your life is here, and the next that person is gone. This is a lesson the author accidentally gives to the readers. The nostalgic trip among the mentioned decades is part of the story, which is so well-written that dialogs are unnecessary. There are just a few dialogue lines, but these are just a complement to those memories he’s telling.
After Renée died, I assumed the rest of my life would be just a consolation prize. I would keep living, and keep having new experiences, but none of them would compare to the old days.
The second part of the story is where Renée dies. This is not a spoiler; it is mentioned in early pages that it would be an important part of the book—the loss.
Loss is part of our lives, and there’s nothing we can do about it. Everything needs to change, and moving away to give space to the new generations is a cycle the world has.
In the end, we don’t see a devastated man. We actually see someone that has accepted his life as it is.
The nineties moment has been stomped over so completely, it’s hard to imagine it ever happened, much less that it lasted five, six, seven years.
The decades, just like our lives, come and go. Nothing lasts forever, and just like the decades of music we loved, they will eventually vanish; but the songs are going to keep playing to remind the future teenagers that there was life before the 2000s.
Love is a Mixtape is a nostalgia trip. It is the mixtape that took the form of a book, the words that will make us look at the past and appreciate the moments we shared with our friends, family, and loved ones.
This is a book written in the United States of America, and of course, the life Rob describes might not be relatable to many people, especially the readers from foreign countries. However, the fascination for music and the constant references to those particular decades in music is more than enough to fall in love with this work. It is unfortunate, though, that perhaps in the future, most of these references, including the mixtapes, will be forgotten.