White Noise was a perfect reminder of why I keep all these cassettes around in the first place: it makes good on the promise of the cassette as the medium that can deliver the most immediate payoff for the smallest monetary and spacial investment. It pooh-poohs my probably healthy impulse to get rid of some of these cassettes, and even encourages me in my sick impulse to actually pull a bunch of them out of storage. I am excited at the prospect. I am afraid there is no hope for me, or for those of you who are even now wondering if your own closets full of cassettes don’t hold similar moments of discovery just waiting for you to unearth them. I am sorry. I advise against getting started on the ones you’ll find that don’t have labels on them. It is a bottomless pit.