45 RPM
One of my favorite things to do in the early 80's was go to DJ's Sound City in the local valley mall, and fork over my $2.00 allowance for the latest New Wave single. I'm talking genuine vinyl 45's. They kept them on a rack behind the cash register, so I would be forced to lean forward and strain to see who had made it into that week's Top Ten. Before there were chips placed in CD cases to trigger a store's alarm, it was probably too tempting to snag one of those little vinyl disks and slip it into your Member's Only jacket on the way out the door.

When buying a whole $8.99 album was beyond my grasp (or beyond my self control to save my allowance for 4 1/2 weeks...), singles became my addiction. The very first 45 I ever bought was "Is There Something I Should Know" by Duran Duran. That of course spawned a decade of pure Fab Five worship that would shape my wardrobe, record collection...and even my hairstyle! This of course was much to the chagrin of my brother who had tried to woo me with the ways of the Metal Gods themselves. He surely built a good foundation of rock by teaching me the essentials... but my Singles were a way of discovering a whole new kind of music. The kind that would make me go out and buy blue-silver lipstick and dye my bangs blonde. The same songs that got me wearing my John Taylor fedora (I bet only 80's teens would even know what a Fedora was!), and wearing only one dangly earring. Yes, rebellion of the New Romantics. I could dance like Molly Ringwald with the best of them, and glower like Souxsie in a most fetching way.

While I saved my major moola for the occasional New Wave 'must have' album, singles provided me a way to listen to other bands without having to invest a so-called fortune. I could single handedly produce one of those "As Seen On TV" CD compilations with my old 45 collection. Bananarama, Kajagoogoo, A-ha, Adam Ant, ABC, David Bowie, Duran Duran, Go West, Glass Tiger, Toni Basil, Thomas Dolby, Howard Jones, The Cure.....just to name a scant few! And the bonus was that there was a "B-Side" to the single. A song that usually didn't make it on the album, so that it made you feel like you were getting a glimpse into something secret. Even the photo sleeves were something to get excited about. A new picture of your favorite band...sometimes even folding out into a limited edition poster! Oh how my bedroom walls rejoiced at the addition of yet another picture taped to the plaster.

I don't even know if Singles are sold in stores anymore. MP3's pretty much killed them, like video killed the radio star (thanks to the Buggles!). But I still have my collection, like medals from an old race won... or better yet, like band buttons on a long trench coat.