2001-01-15

45 Fever

So, if you've been following either my or Kev's diaries, you know that we've recently rediscovered the joys of our substantial record collection, ever since I moved it from its somewhat inaccessible position to the right of the sofa in the study to the bookshelf by the kitchen door. We spent the better part of last night listening to the full-length LPs.

Today, though, while Kev was at the laundromat, I poured myself a cocktail and broke into my "platter pack," home to my collection of 45's.

I miss 45's, don't you? Now they're called "7 inches," and they're generally indie, which is all well and good, but man -- I miss 45's. CD singles are not the same thing.

As I was going 45 by 45 through my collection, I was struck by how many of them were purchased in 1985. Then I realized, well, DUH, that was when I had my first job. Ah, I miss the days of expendable income. I blew so much money on 45's that year.

Are you ready for a blow-by-blow account of the History of Lisa's 45's? I didn't think so...

Abba: Take A Chance On Me - in my next life, I want to be an impossibly leggy Swedish pop star.

Artists United Against Apartheid: Sun City - for a brief, glorious moment there in 1985, it was cool to be politically aware. I particularly remember that our high school's Amnesty International chapter's membership nearly tripled after U2 made it hip to sign petitions about which you knew nothing. If Bono backed it, it must be okay, right?

Baltimora: Tarzan Boy -- holy shit. I had completely forgotten about this one. Didn't it resurface a few years ago as a mouthwash commercial?

Big Country: In A Big Country -- 1984 was when I became rabidly and absurdly devoted to anything that came from "across the pond." And the more "anglo" it sounded, the better I liked it. Who didn't have a crush on Stuart Adamson, I ask you?

David Bowie: Modern Love & Let's Dance -- I know that most Bowie-philes, and Bowie himself for that matter, look on this period as being just horrible and devoid of any integrity. Fuck that. I loved Zoot Suit Bowie and his big yellow pompadour. He doesn't have to apologize to me...

Bronski Beat: Hit that Perfect Beat -- major props to 15-year-old Lisa for buying this one, because 30-year-old Lisa is practically incontinent with delight just listening to it.

Kate Bush: Running Up That Hill -- I was so in love with her voice, with the inherent histrionic theatricality of her stuff. My buying this coincided brilliantly with my John Keats obsession. If I'd known to take this whole thing further and explore the use of absinthe and tight bodices, my poor parents would have had to spend far more on my therapy than they did back then...

Ciccone Youth: Into the Groovy -- Okay, show of hands: how many people knew about this record way before they figured out who Sonic Youth was?

Duran Duran: The Wild Boys -- see this.

Hall & Oates: Kiss On My List -- I've learned to stop apologizing for my Hall & Oates fixation, after learning that two of my best friends (arguably the best songwriters in Boston and Points Beyond) are equally enamored of ol' Daryl and John.

Human League: Human -- bring back huge shoulder pads! Bring back asymmetrical wedge cuts! Bring back 5 layers of eyeshadow! Bring back the Wet Look! For God's sake -- bring back real Top 40 pop songs!

Howard Jones: Things Can Only Get Better -- Quite possibly, one of the most perfect songs ever written, in terms of the sense memories it evokes. It's fucking timeless; everybody remembers this song. My friend Colleen, who's a good 8 years younger than I am, had that same visceral, emotional connection to this song that I did the minute I dropped the needle onto the 45.

Lone Justice: Ways to be Wicked -- I wanna cover this song. Any takers? I saw them open for U2 at the Worcester Centrum in 1987. Yeah, baby.

Mr Mister: Kyrie -- I can explain! I had to bring in a "spiritually relevant contemporary secular pop song" (say that 3 times fast) as an assignment for my Confirmation class. I remember that Fr. Lavoie really dug it. And for those of you keeping score at home, my confirmation name is Kateri Tekakwitha. I'm so Catholic, it's almost absurd.

Queen: We Are The Champions -- the first record I ever bought. I was the hippest eight-year-old ever. It also helped that I had a brother who was twice my age at the time. Anything he listened to, I listened to. Period.

The Rolling Stones: Going to a Go-Go -- I can't for the life of me remember why I bought this.

Scritti Politti: Perfect Way -- yummy.

Charlie Sexton: Beat's So Lonely -- shut up! Charlie Sexton was HOT. And...I got it autographed. Do you have an autographed Charlie Sexton 45? I didn't think so...

Simple Minds: Alive & Kicking -- no self-respecting 80's teen misfit would dare deny the enormous impact of Simple Minds. If you didn't listen to them, you were just a tool, that's all.

Spandau Ballet: Gold -- why I focused on this rather than the more obvious True, I have no idea. It's a pretty damn cool song, though...

Sting: Fortress Around Your Heart -- remember when Sting was cool, kind of?

John Taylor: I Do What I Do (Theme for "9 1/2 Weeks") -- to this day I haven't seen this movie. I don't need to. John Taylor says it all.

Thompson Twins: Lies -- THOMPSON

" " : King for One Day -- TWINS

" " : Lay Your Hands On Me -- RULE!

The Time: The Bird -- Morris Day was the coolest thing about "Purple Rain." I even had a goldfish named after him. How's that for being a dork?

UB40 w/ Chrissie Hynde: I Got You Babe -- Cool.

Was (Not Was): Dad I'm In Jail -- essential addition to any mix tape.

So there you have it. Two hours and several cocktails later, I'm a sappy mess from my walk down Amnesia Lane....good night and God Bless...