Tapers. Oh, how I used to encounter them most every night of performing. “ Do you mind if I record?” “If you are okay with my recording I will send you a copy.” Oftentimes, they would bring in gear that would need to be set up in the room, an annoyance to those around it. Or, they would want to “patch in” to the soundboard, something the sound technician had to allow and deal with. Meanwhile, I had just driven all day, finished a sound check, and was busy constructing a merchandise table. Yes, a “merch” table that contained RECORDINGS OF MY MUSIC THAT I HOPED TO SELL. Unconscious to that concept, all of those concepts, the taper proceeded to record the live performance and, later, make copies. Usually, those copies went to OTHER TAPERS. On occasion, an audience member would forego buying my professionally recorded/mixed/mastered product from me, instead waiting on a copy of that particular show (sent from the taper). Of course, once they heard it and realized the clapping hands two feet from the recording device gave an intolerable sound between songs, they never listened to it again. And, my proper recording sat there un-bought, not to be heard. If the taper patched in to the board the nearby claps and private comments were not evident. However, the audience reactions were distant or non-existent in the listen, not how the audience member remembered the experience. Once, a taper I knew allowed me into his home in NYC. He had thousands, yes thousands of recorded performances in meticulously stored shelves through his abode. He had shows he taped. And, he had thousands, yes thousands of shows captured by other tapers. There were low-tier singer-songwriter acts like me, and, mega-stars such as Springsteen. I should mention the artist’s first name, in case the reader is unfamiliar. That is BRUCE Springsteen. You know, the Jessie’s Girl guy. You know, that guy with Stephen Stills and Ritchie Furay and Neil Young in his band. Anyway, back to the tapers: the day came when a cell phone could now be used for recording. Ah, anyone can be in the taper society! And, so it became. The attempt at etiquette went away. No longer do I hear the polite requests anymore. “Do you mind if I record?” “Hey, is it okay? I promise to send a copy to you.” Now, the audience becomes full of those who tape. And, hey, no need to catch the whole show. No need to catch a whole song. They will hold their hand up for some 35-45 seconds and capture a piece of a song. Then, they can look down and fidget with the device for the remainder of the song. Oh, and look, there are a couple of texts coming in. Aunt Hilda has a picture of her crab legs she is about to eat. They should let her know they look good and make a little joke to her about it. Oh, wait! Is the show over? No matter, they caught a little piece of it on their phone. Does anyone remember that pop band, The Jaggerz? The one-hit wonder group? Ah, ah, ah they call him the taper…The tapers-isn’t that a female condition associated with the 19th century? No, it is a group of people with so much recorded music, non-commercial recorded music, that there are NOT ENOUGH YEARS IN THEIR LIVES to listen to it all. But, that was never the point. The point was to have bragging rights as to how much of it you have, or which show you captured that other tapers missed.