Written and edited by Thomas Johnson. There’s something about a cassette tape. It’s unpretentious and quaint, hardworking and whimsical and romantic. There’s no tricks or manipulations in its sincere, honest low fidelity sound. It fits snuggly in your palm, as if it were a friend's hand. It warms and whirs in reminiscence to a more innocent time when music, even the smallest forms of music, could be seen and felt and held dearly. The imperfections, the pops and clicks and its peaceful hum,  themselves are a warm solace, an approximation of nostalgia-as-sound. In its humility, the cassette continues to reward as...