Kill the Tape

I’ve been struggling to write about VHS because it doesn’t summon the same kind of aesthetic or nostalgic satisfaction as the rest of the 90s hypercolour childhood dreamscape. I have about as much affection for the off-gassing stacks of Disney VHS tapes as I do for a fresh box of garbage bags. VHS tapes were a utilitarian consumer object, as eye catching as a 1990 champagne tan Buick sedan.

If VHS gets a media revivival a la vinyl I will gut every tape re-release of Free Willy and The Lion King like a fish. I will bring rare earth magnets to the inevitable ironic Blockbuster Video pop-up inside the local dead mall and erase every copy of Avatar. If you gather everyone for a houseparty to show off your newly-purchased retro cool VCR and coo about analog fidelity I will point out that Betamax actually had the superior video quality and should have won the war. I will spoil the mood like a screwdriver in a birthday cake.

You have been warned.