I was never a fan of music cassettes. They often got tangled in the deck mechanism and even if you could rescue and rewind the tapes, they often stretched. Many times they broke. Cassettes sucked ass. Their only selling point was portability. You could insert them into Walkmans, boom boxes and, the main reason I started buying cassettes, car stereos.
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For anyone who hasn’t lived in Toronto, Scarborough (or as it has been slagged, for decades, Scarberia) is part of the Greater Toronto Area and has been either a suburb of T-O or a city in its own right. Back in the early ’80s Toronto’s Best Rock, Q107, posed this question: “What’s the definition of a cultural event in Scarborough?”
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I went to school at Immaculate Heart of Mary on Birchmount Road in Scarbrough, then a suburb of Toronto but now part of the GTA. And, a short drive north, just over the bridge, was the pressing plant for Quality Records. I rode my bike over the bridge just to the east of Mack Avenue, but never imagined that decades
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