It’s the end of the decade, and I’m spending it frantically trying to download remnants of one of my most favorite music sites on the whole internet.
In some ways, this seems appropriate. This has been a year of loss, for me and quite a few people I know. We lost family members, friends, homes, jobs, franchises that kept us going through dark times, pets, heroes, keys, and in some cases parts of how we defined ourselves.
But we made it through, although I have no idea how. I’d say a healthy combination of tenacity, stubbornness, and random chance. That’s another thing I learned this year: you have no idea what’s coming next, and attempting to predict it is an exercise in abject futility.
I did not predict 8tracks would shut down. It’s been part of my online life for years; people made fanmixes for shows, movies, books, characters, moods, important events, whatever struck their fancy. And for years, I’ve listened and found new artists to love and new songs I’d never otherwise discover.
And now it’s over. Today, in fact. Which is why I’m frantically downloading as many track lists as I can before the site disappears. On one hand, it’s a kindness: users have the option of saving the playlists to their Spotify account, or simply downloading a text file of the tracks.
I’m not sure how everyone else uses/used 8tracks, but here’s my method:
- Search for whatever movie/TV show/book/fandom I’m currently obsessing over to my friends.
- Save every single playlist that looks remotely interesting/good in a dedicated collection for later listening.
- Listen to 8tracks while working or driving.
- Mark off the songs I like to add to my own playlists at a later date.
- Once the playlist has been listened to, it’s moved to another folder for playlists I’ve already reviewed.
- And repeat.
This probably tells you more about how my brain works than you needed to know, but the end result was this: I have literally thousands of playlists I wanted to listen to, with the promise of hidden gems and exciting new musical discoveries.
With little time before the site disappears, I’ve been downloading as many of the track lists as I can. I don’t think I’ll get them all, but it feels important to get as many as possible. People worked hard on these playlists. They curated each song, made cover art, crafted liner notes. Some of these playlists are deeply personal. Some are funny and silly. But they were made, and they existed, and in some way it feels important to acknowledge that, even in a small and silly way.
Now, to my knowledge there is no way to mass download all the playlists I’ve collected over the years. So I’m going through them individually, one by one, trying to save them. I’d tell you how many I’ve saved so far, but the number might be a bit worrying.
This isn’t the first digital loss — I’m Very Old and have been Very Online for decades — but this one makes me sad. It was a way to communicate between fans without words. It was a way to share feelings and thoughts on a deeply personal level without admitting a thing. I’ve found songs on here that blew my mind and artists that kept me going through the dark times.
The internet probably won’t change much when 8tracks is gone. But I’ll remember it. A lot of people will remember it.
And so much for waxing philosophical about a streaming music service that let me deal with my complex feelings regarding Hannibal and convinced me that every single person who makes a Bucky Barnes playlist uses the same song (and no I’m not telling you what it is). It’s been a ball.
In the meantime, I’m going to keep saving tracks until 8tracks is no more. And I might go donate some money to Archive of Our Own. You know. Just in case.
CAPSLOCKED AND LOADED 