..burgundy leather tie, Escort XR3i, probably called Darren. Fantastic!

It reminds me of everywhere south of Milton Keynes 1981-1988.

...but as I said on Twitter last night. Funny entry, but most of those records are great and there are more than a handful of stone-cold classics in there.

But then I'm from Essex: we all had that record collection and all the boys dressed like that. As I've said before, jazz-funk fusion was like mother's milk round our way.

Takes me back to a bar called Tiffany's where the pringle set met, tried to out pastel each other and never wore shoes that had laces. If socks were worn they were white. I wore only black at the time and DMs and my clothing was a badge of pride in the face of such monstrous clothing and face muff. The 'taches were beyond ridiculous, each one on each face reminding me of Hawaiian private investigators, their only saving grace the fact that no 'tache could ever generate enough hair to be permed or mulleted into the bollock-shaped curls of the barnets on top of their invariably gormless faces.

In 1988 the soundtrack to this cancerous dandification and tonsorial terrorism was Jermaine Stewart's We Don't Have To Take Our Clothes Off, a song that Mr Stewart seemingly sang through blocked nasal passages in a room aerated with helium. The fact that at the time he looked more like Whitney Houston than Whitney Houston only reminded me that these perfumed ponces were spending more time on their look than their mothers or girlfriends ever did. The crime was not looking and behaving like a dandy or challenging gender stereotypes, the crime was looking like a Top Shop mannequin that's been dressed by a colour-blind 4 year-old girl who's been permanently denied access to a Barbie doll.

JoLean's right though, there are some good songs in there but the guy on E-bay is spot on with his historical perspective of a certain type of male during the 80s.

Caister on Sea Holiday Camp near Great Yarmouth was the venue for many of these gatherings.

It was also my home village and undoubtedly turned me on to the NWOBHM as an antidote!

I've got quiet a few of those in iTunes already.
Never got to Caister but I did manage a couple of the Isle Of White Weekenders. Saw Level 42 before they'd bought any albums out.
Yep, I was a Soul Boy and had a floppy fringe.
Perhaps this should be posted on the Removing Correctness Filter blog.

Me as well and left with a great record collection that after 15 years in the indie wilderness I find myself returning to more and more these days (what you going to listen to on a Friday night after a hard week at work, the Velvet Underground or Jean Carne, for me it's no contest).

Earth Wind & Fire and Kid Creole & the Coconuts ?

Classic. Hair highlights too I bet. Agree though, some of those are not so bad.

but that Rapper's Delight on Sugarhill Records has got to be worth a few quid.

restores my faith in human nature & creativity!

for most of my Saturday (a very late rise after last night's Word Meet in Glasgow)