Like some sort of minimalist muggins who watches too many TV property shows, I recently embarked on a “decluttering” mission. One thing I couldn’t bring myself to declutter (OK, throw out - let’s stop dressing it up with poncey buzzwords) were my old mixtapes. I’ll probably never play them again. Indeed, I’ve barely got the means to do so - my last remaining cassette deck nearly got decluttered too. But just rummaging through them sent me tumbling down a retro rabbit hole. There were tapes made for summers, Christmases, road trips, festivals and dirty weekends. Tapes I made for old...