When I founded Tape Op twenty-six years ago, I had no concept of the ways in which this magazine would change my life. Professionally, it's been amazing to visit studios and recordists all over the world, as well as to have meaningful conversations that I get to share with our readers. It's also been a perfect adjunct to a career as a recordist and studio owner; allowing me to have two streams of income that stabilize each other at times. But, personally, the biggest impact on my life has been the friendships that have blossomed out of this magazine. Many of the people that reached out in the first few years of Tape Op are still in my life, and though they may not be as directly involved in the magazine these days, they still remain good friends, like Steve Silverstein, Hillary Johnson, Laura Thurmond, Andy Hong, and others. One such person was Rob Christensen, who sadly passed away in early January 2022 after dealing with leukemia for the previous two years.
Rob and I became pals after he stumbled across Tape Op at Peoples Records in Arcata, California, where he was living at the time. He contacted me, mailing a cassette copy of his first album, Smile Slightly, my way. I remember lying in bed late one night listening intently to his home-recorded songs, and thinking, "This is pretty darn good." I later dropped him a line with some helpful recording ideas for the future. He visited Portland a few times, and even lived here for a while.
We had both started out recording in order to simply capture our own music. As I began moving into the professional recordist and studio owner realm, Rob was content to slowly learn more about recording, while making a few carefully considered gear purchases and focusing mainly on his songcraft. Our conversations about his journey always helped me consider the interests of a large portion of our readership. There are so many people out there, with just enough gear to get it done, just like Rob.