I don't know if I'm just being cynical or if everyone else is seeing the same thing, but the whole situation with Singlice feels... off. It’s one of those things where you look at the surface level and think everything is fine, then you dig an inch deeper and realize the foundation is basically made of wet cardboard. Honestly, it reminds me of that time back in Chicago when my old landlord tried to tell me the leaking ceiling was just "character" for the apartment—it’s a classic move to brush off real issues with vague nonsense. There’s just this lingering sense that we aren't getting the full story, and frankly, I'm tired of the guesswork. Is it just me, or does anyone else feel like we're being played?
I don't have any contact info for that guy—nothing at all.
alanmaras@inet.hrAlbum Title / Cover Art
*** $1.75I’m looking at about 35 units for this—just trying to get a feel for what we’re dealing with here. $33)
Just picked up an Al Wilson pressing of "La La Peace Song"—it’s sitting right in that sweet spot between VG+ and EX. Honestly, if you haven't spent a late night spinning this one, you're missing out on some serious soul therapy. It’s got that smooth, laid-back vibe that just cuts through all the noise of a busy week. I was cleaning it up last night while sipping on some coffee, and man, the fidelity is just crisp—no surface noise to ruin the mood. Definitely a solid addition to the collection.
Just scored a little gem for the collection—Amii Stewart’s *Jealousy / Step Into The Love Line* on vinyl. It’s sitting at a solid VG+/VG+, which honestly feels like a win given how much people tend to beat up these older pressings. I remember hearing this stuff back in the day when I was first getting into disco and soul—it just has that specific, polished energy that hits different on a turntable. There's something about the way those mid-tempo grooves settle into the needle... it’s less about the loud, club-thumping stuff and more about that smooth, late-night vibe you can just sink into. If you’re hunting for some classic soulful disco that doesn't feel too "on the nose," this one is definitely worth a spin. Definitely adding this to the rotation for my next chill evening.
So, I was digging through some old crates recently—you know how it goes, just looking for a little something to drown out the hum of the dishwasher—and I stumbled upon Amii Stewart’s "Knock On Wood." Specifically, that EX/EX version. Man, talk about a deep cut. It’s funny, because most people only know the radio edit or the standard club mix, but this specific version? It hits different. There’s a certain groove there that feels almost hypnotic, like if you listen long enough, you might actually start believing your own luck. I remember playing a similar track back when I was living in Chicago—just a tiny apartment, nothing but a cheap turntable and a stack of vinyl—and it felt like the whole world slowed down for a second. The production on this is just... it’s got that classic soul-infused disco energy that doesn't feel dated, even decades later. It’s smooth, it’s punchy, and it carries this effortless cool that modern tracks just seem to struggle to replicate. It’s one of those rare gems where the vocal performance and the beat aren't fighting for attention; they’re just vibing together perfectly. If you haven't sat with this particular mix, do yourself a favor and go find it. It’s a mood.
So, I was digging through some old vinyl the other day—just one of those rainy Sunday afternoons where you end up down a rabbit hole—and I stumbled back onto Andy Gibb’s "An Everlasting Love." Honestly? It’s such a vibe. You know that specific kind of late 70s production where everything feels just a little bit lush, a little bit dreamy, and almost impossibly smooth? That’s this track right there. It’s got that classic Bee Gees DNA, obviously, but Andy had this way of making it feel more intimate, less like a massive stadium anthem and more like something playing softly in the background of a dim lounge in Chicago or something. There’s a certain melancholy tucked under all those polished harmonies—that bittersweet feeling that stays with you even when the melody is catchy as hell. I remember hearing this back in the day and thinking it sounded like pure sunshine, but listening to it now, through a slightly older lens, it hits differently. It’s less about the "everlasting" part and more about that fleeting, beautiful moment before things change. Just a really solid piece of pop craftsmanship that deserves way more credit than it gets these days. If you haven't sat with this one in a while, do yourself a favor and give it a spin. It’s a mood.
So, I was digging through some old crates recently—you know how it goes, you start looking for one specific thing and suddenly three hours have vanished into thin air—and I stumbled upon this Andy and David Williams pressing. Specifically, that "What's Your Name / Say It Again" EX/EX promo. Man, finding stuff in that kind of condition these days feels like winning a small lottery. Most copies of this are absolute beaters by now—scratched up, sleeve worn down to the cardboard, just generally looking like they’ve been tossed around a basement in Chicago for thirty years. But this one? Pristine. It’s got that heavy, intentional weight to it that you just don't see in modern digital files. It’s funny, because listening to it again, I started thinking about how much the scene has shifted. Back when this was spinning on turntables, everything felt a bit more... tangible, I guess? Even if the sound quality wasn't always perfect, there was a soul to it. Anyway, if anyone else has tracked down an EX copy of this, please tell me I'm not alone in the obsession. It's a total gem.
So, I finally tracked down this Andy Williams pressing—the one with "Glory Glory Hallelujah" and "Ave Maria"—and man, it’s in absolutely mint condition. We're talking EX/EX here, which is getting harder to find these days if you aren't willing to pay through the nose for it. I remember sitting in my dad's living room back in the suburbs of Chicago, listening to these kinds of old-school vocalists on his heavy Hi-Fi setup—it was one of those massive wood-paneled consoles that took up half the room—and there was just something about that smooth, effortless delivery. It wasn't like the overproduced stuff you hear on the radio today; it felt... I don't know, intentional? Even when he's hitting those big, soaring notes, it doesn't feel forced. It’s just pure, unadulterated crooner magic. Anyway, I've been spinning this one all morning while sipping some coffee, and honestly, it’s just a nice way to start a quiet Saturday. If you ever stumble across an Andy Williams record in this kind of shape, don't think twice—just grab it.
Just picked up an Al Wilson copy of "La La Peace Song"—it’s sitting right at that sweet spot between VG+ and EX. Honestly, if you haven't spun this one yet, you're missing out on some serious soul vibes. It’s got that smooth, laid-back groove that just makes you want to kick back and forget about the workday for a while. I was cleaning it up last night, sipping on a coffee, and man... there's just something about those old-school arrangements that modern stuff can't quite replicate. It sounds incredibly crisp on my setup, too. Definitely one for the permanent collection.
So, I finally tracked down a copy of Baccara’s "The Devil Sent You To Lorado"—found it in a dusty crate at a local shop out in Austin—and man, the condition is actually insane. We're talking VG+/EX territory here. Honestly, finding anything this clean from that era feels like hitting a jackpot, especially when you consider how many people used to play these records until they were basically just surface noise. I popped it on my setup last night, poured myself a drink, and just let it spin. The sound quality is surprisingly crisp for a record that's been sitting around for decades. It’s got that specific, lush disco-pop vibe that just hits different when you aren't listening through some tinny Bluetooth speaker. There's this one particular groove where the production really shines—it's smooth, a little bit haunting, and perfectly captures that late-70s studio magic. It's funny, I remember hearing something similar on a scratched-up compilation back in high school, but nothing ever sounded this intentional or polished. If you ever get the chance to snag a clean pressing of this, don't overthink it. Just grab it. It's a total mood.
I was digging through some old crates the other day—just one of those late-night deep dives where you think you're being productive but you're really just procrastinating—and I stumbled onto this Baccara gem. We’re talking "Yes Sir, I Can Boogie" mixed with that "Cara Mia" energy. Honestly? It’s such a trip. There’s something about that disco-era production that hits differently when you aren't expecting it—it’s got that smooth, almost hypnotic groove that makes you want to just lean back and let the rhythm do the work. It’s not even trying too hard, which is exactly why it works. It’s one of those tracks that feels like a lost relic from a high-end lounge in Vegas or somewhere equally flashy. Just a solid, vibey listen if you're looking to mellow out without losing the beat.
I was digging through some old crates the other day—you know how it goes, just looking for a bit of nostalgia—and I stumbled upon Baccara’s "Darling" and "Number One." Honestly? It’s such a trip. There’s something about that specific era of disco that hits different when you aren't expecting it. It’s got that polished, almost theatrical vibe that feels so much more intentional than the stuff we hear on the radio today. It’s funny, because back in the day, people used to dismiss this kind of pop as just fluff, but listening to it now... man, the production is actually pretty tight. "Number One" specifically has that infectious, driving energy that makes you want to lean back and just let the groove take over. It’s not even about dancing for me anymore—it’s more about that feeling of stepping into a different decade. It’s smooth, it’s classy, and honestly, it’s a total mood. If you haven't given these a spin lately, do yourself a favor and go find a high-quality remaster. You won't regret it.
I was digging through some old crates recently—you know how it is when you get down that rabbit hole—and stumbled upon this Baccara gem. It’s that "Sorry, I'm A Lady" / "Love You Till I Die" extended mix combo. Honestly? It’s such a trip. There’s something about those vintage disco productions that just hits different when you actually take the time to listen to the full arrangement instead of just the radio edit. It’s got that specific kind of polished, dramatic flair that feels almost lost these days—kind of like how everything seems so over-produced and sterile now. This stuff had actual soul behind the glitter. Anyway, if you're into that classic era of dance tracks that aren't afraid to be a little theatrical, definitely give this one a spin. It’s a mood.
Betty & Bab* – Together, we’re gonna set the world on fire. G/EX
Just picked up a copy of Bonnie Tyler’s "It's A Heartache" on vinyl—graded it as VG+/VG+, which honestly feels like a steal for this kind of sound. There’s just something about that specific era of production that hits different when you drop the needle. It’s got that raw, slightly gritty edge that modern digital remasters always seem to polish right out of the music. I was spinning this the other night while catching up on some chores, and man, it really takes you back. It’s one of those tracks where you can practically feel the heartbreak in the vocal cracks—it’s not perfect, but that’s exactly why it works. It reminds me of those old late-night drives through the suburbs when everything felt a little more dramatic than it actually was. If you’re looking for something with a bit of soul and a lot of grit, this is definitely worth adding to the collection.
Just snagged a copy of the Bay City Rollers' *Shang-A-Lang / Ready For That Rock & Roll* on vinyl—VG+ to EX condition, which honestly feels like a miracle for a record this age. If you grew up in the States during the height of the teenybopper craze, you know exactly what I'm talking about. It’s pure, unadulterated nostalgia that hits you right in the gut. I remember being stuck in my hometown in Ohio back in the day, spinning these exact tracks on a cheap turntable while trying to convince my friends I had better taste than the bubblegum pop everyone else was obsessed with. Looking back? Yeah, okay, maybe I wasn't fooling anyone. There's just something about those melodies—they're catchy as hell, even if they're a bit sugary for some. This pressing sounds incredibly crisp, though; the highs are bright without being piercing, and it carries that warm, analog soul that digital files just can't replicate. Definitely a solid addition to the collection if you're looking to revisit that era of pure, simple pop perfection.
Found this gem at a local shop—Bilgeri’s *Some Girls Are Ladies*. It’s a VG+/EX copy, which honestly feels like a steal for how much soul is packed into these tracks. There's just something about that specific era of production that hits different when you're spinning it late at night with a drink in hand. Definitely worth adding to the collection if you can track down a clean pressing.
So, I finally managed to track down this Boney M. gem—"We Kill The World (Don't Kill The World)" from that *Boonoonoonoos* era. It’s an EX/VG+ copy, which honestly feels like a minor miracle given how many people used to treat vinyl like scratch pads back in the day. It’s one of those tracks that hits you differently when you actually sit down and listen to the production instead of just treating it as disco background noise for a party. There’s something about that late '70s/early '80s studio polish that just feels... intentional? Not like the over-compressed stuff we get pumped out of Nashville or LA these days. It’s got this weirdly heavy, almost existential vibe buried under the groove, which is pretty wild if you think about the lyrics for a second. I remember hearing this on a grainy radio station back when I was living in Chicago—just some late-night DJ playing deep cuts while the city hummed outside my window. Finding a clean copy now feels like a little win for the collection. Definitely worth the hunt if you're into that specific brand of high-concept disco.
Man, I was just spinning through some old vinyl the other day—found this dusty copy of Boney M.’s "Daddy Cool" tucked behind some old jazz records—and man, that disco beat just hits different when you aren't expecting it. It’s one of those tracks that feels like pure sunshine, even if it’s a little bit cheesy if you look at it too hard. I remember being a kid back in the day, probably hanging out in a basement somewhere in Chicago, hearing this track blaring from a neighbor's stereo. You couldn't help but move. It’s got that specific kind of groove that stays stuck in your head for days—not in an annoying way, but more like a catchy little rhythm that follows you around while you're grabbing coffee or driving down the interstate. Honestly, sometimes you just need that kind of unapologetic, high-energy disco to shake off a rough week. Just pure vibes.
Just picked up a copy of Boney M.’s "Ma Baker" paired with "Still I'm Sad"—it’s a solid G+/VG+ pressing. Honestly, listening to this takes me back to those late nights in my college dorm in Chicago, just cranking disco tracks while everyone else was trying to sleep. There’s something about that "Ma Baker" beat that just hits different when you aren't expecting it. It’s pure nostalgia wrapped in a groove. If you can find a clean copy of these, definitely grab it.
Just picked up a VG+/EX copy of Boney M.’s "El Lute / Gotta Go Home" on vinyl. Honestly, there’s just something about that era of disco—it hits different when you've got the physical wax spinning. I was digging through some crates the other day at a local shop over in Austin, and stumbling upon this felt like a total win. It’s one of those records that just fills the room immediately. If you haven't spun this lately, you're seriously missing out on some top-tier grooves.
Just picked up a little gem for the collection—Boney M.’s "Rasputin" paired with "Painter Man." It’s a solid VG+/VG+ find. Honestly, there’s just something about that disco era that hits different when you’ve got a clean pressing in hand. I was spinning this the other night while catching up on some reading, and man, those tracks still have that infectious energy. It’s one of those records where you can almost feel the groove before the needle even settles into the wax. Definitely a win for the crates.
Found this little gem the other day—Boney M.’s "Belfast / Plantation Boy" on a VG+/VG+ pressing. Honestly, there’s just something about those old disco-pop grooves that hits different when you actually take the time to sit down and listen. It’s not just background noise for a party; it’s got that specific, lush production style that makes you want to just lean back and let it wash over you. I remember spinning stuff like this back in the day during long weekend road trips through the Midwest—just cruising down the interstate with the volume up, feeling like life was a lot simpler than it is now. This particular copy is holding up pretty well, too. No major pops or clicks to ruin the vibe, which is a win in my book. If you can track these two down in decent shape, definitely grab them. It's a mood.
Just picked up a copy of Boney M.’s "Rivers of Babylon" paired with "Brown Girl in the Ring"—it's in VG+/VG+ condition, which honestly feels like a steal these days. I was digging through some crates at a local shop in Austin last weekend—you know how it goes, you go in for one specific thing and end up walking out with a whole stack of vinyl you didn't know you needed—and this one just jumped out at me. There’s something about that disco-reggae fusion they were doing back then... it’s almost impossible to listen to without getting that rhythmic itch in your feet. It’s pure nostalgia, even if you weren't around for the height of the disco era. The grooves look clean, too—no major pops or clicks to ruin the vibe when you're just trying to chill out on a Sunday afternoon. Definitely a solid addition to the collection.
I finally tracked down an EX/EX copy of Bata Illic’s *Auf Der Straße Der Sehnsucht*—and man, holding this thing feels like finding a lost relic in a dusty corner of a used record shop in Chicago. It’s one of those finds that just makes you stop and stare for a second. You know that feeling when you stumble upon something rare, something that actually carries some weight? Yeah, that. The condition is pretty much exactly what you'd expect from a vintage find—super clean, barely any signs of life on it—but even with that "excellent" grading, there's just something about the way these old pressings sound. It's got that warmth, that specific analog grit that modern digital stuff just can't quite replicate, no matter how many high-end plugins they throw at it. I was spinning it last night while just chilling with a coffee, and honestly, the whole vibe is just... different. It’s moody, it’s soulful, and it really pulls you into that sense of longing the title promises. It’s funny, because I remember seeing someone mention a similar pressing back when I was browsing some old collector forums—I think it might have been George Hill4 talking about his own collection—but nothing prepared me for having this particular gem in my hands. If you ever get the chance to hunt this down, don't sleep on it. It's more than just a record; it's an entire atmosphere.
So, I finally got my hands on this Bata Illic – Schwarze Madonna pressing. It’s a VG+/VG+ copy, which—let's be honest—is basically the sweet spot for these older records where you get all the soul without the constant surface noise driving you up the wall. I was digging through some boxes at a local shop in Chicago last weekend—you know how it goes, spending way too much time hovering over dusty crates while the shop owner gives you that "get moving" look—and this one just jumped out at me. There’s something about the vibe of this specific release that hits different. It’s got that moody, dark energy that makes you want to dim the lights, pour a glass of bourbon, and just disappear into the music for an hour. The condition is solid, too. Not perfect, obviously—it's a used record, after all—but it plays beautifully. No major skips or anything crazy, just that slight, warm crackle that actually adds to the whole atmosphere. If you’ve been hunting for this one, honestly, don't sleep on it. It's a total mood.
I was digging through some old crates recently—you know how it goes, just looking for something to scratch that itch—and I stumbled upon this absolute gem. It’s that Bata Illic track, "Judy, I Love You," specifically the EX/EX version. Man, there is just something about those older recordings that hits differently. It’s got this specific, soulful grit that you just don't hear in modern studio polish. It reminded me of sitting in my uncle's garage back in Chicago, listening to his old vinyl collection while the summer heat settled in—just pure nostalgia wrapped up in a melody. If you haven't tracked this one down yet, do yourself a favor and hunt it down. It's a mood.
I was digging through some old crates the other day—just one of those late-night deep dives where you end up down a rabbit hole of vintage vinyl—and I stumbled upon this Bata Illic track, "Mädchen Mit Den Traurigen Augen." It’s an EX/EX copy, which is basically the holy grail for collectors like me who can't stand a single surface scratch. There's just something about that specific era of songwriting that hits differently, you know? It’s got that melancholic, soulful undertone that stays with you long after the needle lifts. It reminded me of sitting in a dim coffee shop in Seattle back in the early 2000s, just watching the rain hit the window and feeling that exact same kind of beautiful, quiet sadness. It’s not even depressing, really—it’s more like a mood you want to wrap yourself in. Anyway, if you ever get the chance to hunt this one down, don't sleep on it. It’s a total gem.
So, I finally managed to track down a copy of Barry Blue’s "Dancin' On A Saturday Night" from '89—it’s sitting there in a VG+/EX condition, which, honestly, feels like a miracle given how much people beat up these old pressings. It’s one of those tracks that just hits different when you aren't hearing it through some tinny Bluetooth speaker or a compressed streaming file. I remember being at this dive bar over in Austin back in the day—nothing fancy, just a spot with a decent jukebox—and hearing something with this kind of disco-infused energy. It’s got that specific late-era groove that makes you want to actually get up and move, even if you’ve got two left feet. There’s a certain warmth to the production here that you just don't find in modern digital stuff. It’s smooth, it’s rhythmic, and it carries that nostalgic weight without feeling dated or cheesy. If you're looking to add a little bit of that classic floor-filler energy to your collection, this one is definitely worth the hunt.
I finally got my hands on a decent copy of Bobbie Gentry’s "Ode to Billie Joe"—this one's a Generic/EX pressing—and man, I’ve been sitting here just letting the needle drop and staring at the ceiling for the last hour. There’s just something about that swampy, Southern Gothic storytelling that hits different when you aren't rushing to get somewhere. It’s not just a song; it’s like a tiny, tragic short film played out through a guitar and that hauntingly calm vocal delivery. It reminds me of those humid, heavy summer nights back in Georgia where everything feels a little too quiet, and you know there's some kind of drama brewing behind closed doors in the neighborhood. You listen to the lyrics and you can practically feel the tension in that dinner table scene—that awkward, suffocating silence while everyone pretends everything is normal despite the elephant in the room. It's masterclass songwriting, honestly. The way she weaves the mystery of what happened to Billie Joe with the mundane details of everyday life... it's brilliant. If you haven't given this specific pressing a spin yet, do yourself a favor and clear your schedule. You're gonna want to just sit with this one.
Found this old Boney M. gem at a local record shop last weekend—Rivers Of Babylon / Brown Girl In The Ring on a decent VG+/VG+ pressing. Honestly, there’s just something about that disco era that hits different when you drop the needle—it’s pure nostalgia, even if it is a bit cheesy. I remember my dad used to blast these tracks during our summer road trips through the Midwest, and every time "Brown Girl In The Ring" comes on, I’m instantly ten years old again, sitting in the backseat of an old Ford, probably complaining about the AC. It’s one of those records that just feels like sunshine, regardless of how gray the weather is outside. Definitely a solid addition to the collection.
So, I finally tracked down a copy of the Bee Gees' *Alive*—an EX/EX pressing, if you can believe it—and man, it’s a trip. Honestly, sitting there with the needle dropping, it just hits different than those polished studio tracks we all grew up hearing on the radio. It’s got that raw, unvarnished energy that makes you feel like you're actually in the room with them, which is exactly what I was looking for. I remember back in high school, I used to spend hours scouring local record shops in Chicago, hunting for these kinds of live cuts while my buddies were all obsessed with whatever the latest hair metal band was. There’s just something about that specific era of disco-infused pop that feels so much more visceral when it isn't smoothed over by a million layers of studio production. You can hear the grit, the slight imperfections, and that unmistakable vocal harmony that somehow sounds even more haunting when it's live. It's definitely not for everyone—some people might find the transition from their ballad stuff to this kind of live groove a bit jarring—but for me? It’s pure gold. If you ever get the chance to spin this one, do it. Just grab a drink, dim the lights, and let it wash over you. It’s a mood, for sure.
So, I finally tracked down a copy of the Bee Gees' "Tragedy" in pretty solid VG+/VG+ condition—not quite mint, but definitely holds its own if you aren't looking for perfection. It’s one of those records that just hits different when you drop the needle. You know how some tracks feel like they were made for a specific era, but then you realize they actually just sound timeless? That’s this for me. I was spinning it the other night, just chilling with a drink, and man, that disco-infused energy is infectious. It’s funny, because back in the day, I remember hearing this on the radio while I was driving around a small town in Ohio, thinking it sounded a bit too "produced" for my taste. Fast forward a few decades, and now I'm sitting here realizing I was totally wrong—it’s pure pop craftsmanship. The production is tight, the harmonies are soaring, and honestly, it’s a total mood lifter when everything else feels a bit heavy. It's definitely earned its spot on my shelf.
Just picked up a solid copy of the Bee Gees' *Too Much Heaven / Rest Your Love On Me* on vinyl—VG+ condition, which honestly feels like a win these days if you aren't paying through the nose for a mint press. There’s just something about that late 70s disco-pop era that hits differently when you drop the needle; it’s got that specific kind of polished, shimmering production that modern digital tracks just can't replicate. I remember being a teenager back in the day, sitting in my room in Chicago, just looping these tracks until my parents started complaining about the bass vibrating the floorboards. "Rest Your Love On Me" always felt a bit more soulful to me than their high-octane dance stuff, whereas "Too Much Heaven" is basically pure sonic sunshine. It’s one of those records that makes you want to turn the lights down low and just drift. If you happen to see a clean pressing floating around, definitely grab it—it’s a total vibe.
I finally got my hands on a copy of Connie Francis’s "Du Mußt Bleiben, Angelino"—it's that generic VG condition—and man, it really takes me back. There's just something about those old-school recordings that hits differently than anything you hear on Spotify today. It’s got that warm, crackly soul that makes you want to pour a drink and just sit there for a minute. Honestly, finding these gems in decent shape around here isn't easy, but when you do, it feels like a massive win. Definitely one for the collection.
Dana – Give him my best, will you? EX/EX
I still find myself thinking back to that whole Elvis era—it’s one of those things that just sticks in your brain, you know? Looking back at the sheer scale of what he was, it feels almost surreal now. It wasn't just about the music or the moves; it was this massive, cultural shift that seemed to happen overnight, yet felt like it had been building forever. I remember sitting around with my buddies back in the day, just completely floored by how much he changed the game. It wasn't just some pop star thing—he was a phenomenon. You couldn't escape him. Even if you weren't into rock and roll, his presence was everywhere, from the radio to those grainy clips on TV. There was this raw energy to it all, a kind of lightning in a bottle that we haven't really seen quite like that since. It makes you wonder, honestly—do we ever get anything like that again? In an age where everything feels so manufactured and polished, there was something so unvarnished and visceral about his rise. He was a force of nature, plain and simple. Just one of those rare moments in American history where everything aligned perfectly to create something legendary.
So, I finally tracked down a copy of David Cassidy’s "If I Didn't Care / Frozen Noses" in that sweet EX/EX condition—and man, let me tell you, it’s a total trip. It’s one of those finds that just makes you sit back and realize how much the music landscape has shifted since the heyday of teen idols turning into actual musicians. Listening to this, you can really hear the transition happening. It’s got that classic pop sensibility, but there’s a layer of soulfulness underneath that people usually overlook when they’re busy making jokes about the Partridge Family era. It’s not just bubblegum; there’s some genuine craft in the arrangements here. I remember sitting in my old apartment in Chicago back in the late 70s, spinning records like this while trying to convince myself I was way more sophisticated than I actually was. There was something about that specific crackle of a clean vinyl pressing that just hits different. This particular copy is so crisp, though—no surface noise to ruin the vibe, which is a miracle given how many beat-up copies were tossed around back then. If you ever get the chance to hunt down an EX/EX pressing of this, don't sleep on it. It’s a beautiful bit of pop history that deserves a lot more respect than it usually gets from the critics.
So, I finally got my hands on this David Cassidy—Daydreamer / The Puppy Song—EX/EX release, and man, it’s a trip down memory lane. You know, the kind of thing that hits you right in the nostalgia center when you weren't even expecting it. It’s one of those records that just captures a very specific, very breezy era of pop perfection. I remember sitting in my cousin's basement back in the suburbs of Chicago—just a kid with nothing better to do—listening to stuff like this on a beat-up cassette player. There was something about the songwriting here that felt so earnest, almost painfully so, but in a way that totally works if you aren't trying too hard to be "cool." It’s all about that dreamy, melodic vibe. The production on these tracks is surprisingly lush for the time. It’s got that polished, sunshine-soaked quality that makes you want to just lean back and let the afternoon drift by. It isn't trying to reinvent the wheel or push some heavy political agenda; it’s just pure, unadulterated melody. Some people might call it lightweight, sure—and hey, they wouldn't be wrong—but there’s a craft to it that gets lost in a lot of the overproduced junk we hear on the radio these days. If you're looking for something to spin while you're hanging out on the porch or just killing time on a Sunday morning, this is it. It’s mellow, it’s sweet, and honestly? It’s just a damn good listen. No pretension required.
So, I finally dug out that old Donny Osmond pressing—the one for "The Twelfth of Never"—and man, it’s an absolute gem. It's the EX/EX grade, which honestly feels like a miracle given how much dust usually accumulates on these older records sitting in someone's basement. Listening to this takes me straight back to being a kid, probably sitting on the floor of my parents' living room in Chicago, just mesmerously watching the needle drop. There's something about that specific era of pop production—it’s so polished, so earnest, and just incredibly smooth. You don't get that kind of unapologetic sentimentality much anymore without feeling like you're being mocked, you know? But with Donny, he just leans into it, and it works. It’s pure, unadulterated nostalgia wrapped in a perfect vocal performance. Definitely one of those finds that makes you glad you didn't toss your old collection during the last big move.
Easy Connection – Besame Mucho (Señora) / Sally's O.K. EX/EX
So, I finally managed to track down an old pressing of Eddy Grant’s "Do You Feel My Love?"—VG+ condition, which honestly feels like a miracle given how many times I’ve dropped a record over the years. It’s one of those albums that just hits different when you actually sit down and listen, rather than just having it as background noise while you're cleaning up the kitchen or whatever. There’s this specific groove to his stuff—it’s got that soulful, rhythmic weight that makes you want to just lean back and let it wash over you. It reminds me of those lazy Sunday afternoons back in Chicago, just spinning vinyl and losing track of time. It’s a solid find, definitely worth the hunt.
Man, I was just spinning some Eddy Grant earlier—specifically that "Living On The Front Line" extended version—and it hit me right in the gut. You know those tracks that feel like they were written for a different era but somehow manage to get more relevant every single year? That’s this one. It’s got that gritty, driving energy that just refuses to let you sit still, even when the lyrics are hitting you with all that heavy social commentary. It’s funny, because whenever I hear those opening beats, I can't help but think about how much the landscape has shifted since this dropped. Back then, it felt like a warning; now, listening to it while stuck in bumper-to-bumper traffic on the I-95, it feels more like a documentary. There’s a certain weight to his voice—it isn't just singing, it’s like he’s reporting from the ground floor of everything going wrong in society. I remember sitting in my first apartment in Chicago, probably late at night, just letting this record loop while I stared at the ceiling and thought about the state of things. Some people try to strip the edge off songs like this to make them "radio-friendly," but honestly? Don't touch it. The grit is the whole point. If you smooth out the edges, you lose the soul of what he was trying to say about being caught in the middle of the struggle. It's a masterclass in how to make a protest song that actually sounds like a damn good time, too. Pure class.
I was just spinning that classic Elaine Paige and Barbara Dickson duet, "I Know Him So Well," and man... it hits different when you're older. It’s one of those tracks that feels like a cinematic gut punch—especially since both singers have such distinct, powerhouse styles that somehow mesh perfectly without stepping on each other's toes. It’s funny, actually—it reminds me of this one rainy Tuesday back in Seattle when I was nursing a lukewarm coffee and listening to old Broadway soundtracks, just thinking about how much life changes. You start out thinking you've got someone completely figured out, and then reality just... happens. That song captures that specific brand of bittersweet realization so well—that weird space between knowing someone intimately and realizing you don't really know them at all. Just a beautiful, melancholy little masterpiece.
So, I finally got my hands on this Focus - Hocus Pocus / Janis pressing in VG/EX condition—and man, let me tell you, it’s a bit of a trip. I’ve been hunting for a clean copy of this one for a minute now, mostly because finding anything that isn't trashed or scratched to hell feels like a full-time job lately. The grading actually holds up, too. It’s got that lovely, lived-in feel without being beat up, which is exactly what I was hoping for when I pulled the trigger. There’s just something about that specific sound profile... it hits different when you aren't fighting surface noise the whole time. I ended up spinning it last night with a glass of bourbon while watching some old noir film, and honestly? Perfect vibe. Just sitting there, letting the needle do its thing, thinking about how much effort goes into tracking down these weirdly specific gems. Anyway, if anyone else is eyeing this one, just know the quality is legit.
Just picked up this Frankie Miller pressing—Darlin' / Drunken Nights In The City—and honestly, the condition is killer. It’s sitting at a solid VG+/VG+. There's just something about that soulful, gritty vibe he brings to a track... it hits different when you're winding down for the night. Definitely a gem for the collection.
Geraldine—honestly, just top-tier stuff. It’s easily hitting that VG+/VG+ sweet spot for me.
Found this absolute gem of a pressing—Puccini’s *Four Arias* featuring Renata Tebaldi. It’s a VG+ to NM copy, which honestly feels like a miracle given how many people tend to treat vinyl like a scratchpad these days. If you haven't spent much time with Tebaldi, man, you are missing out. There’s just something about her tone—it’s got this lush, velvety weight to it that makes modern recordings feel kind of thin by comparison. I remember sitting in my living room back in Chicago last winter, nursing a lukewarm coffee and putting this exact record on while the snow was coming down hard outside, and it just... hits different. It’s pure, unadulterated drama without all the over-produced polish you get from those big digital remasters today. Anyway, if you're looking to add some heavyweight soprano magic to your collection, this is a solid pick. Definitely worth the spin.
Just picked up this Heintje record—"I'm Your Little Boy" paired with "Two Little Stars"—and honestly, the condition is pretty sweet for being a VG+/VG+ find. It’s one of those old-school gems that just hits different when you drop the needle. There's something about that vintage sound that modern digital stuff just can't quite replicate, you know? Definitely a nice little addition to the collection.
So, I finally got my hands on this generic pressing of The Irish Rovers’ *The Unicorn / Black Velvet Band*—it’s in EX condition, which is honestly a win in my book because finding anything decent lately feels like hunting for a needle in a haystack. I was spinning this the other night while finishing up some paperwork at my desk—just one of those quiet, rainy Tuesday vibes—and man, there’s just something about these tracks that hits different. It’s got that raw, storytelling energy that makes you feel like you’re sitting in a dimly lit pub in Boston rather than staring at a laptop screen. "The Unicorn" is such a classic, obviously, but hearing it with this specific warmth... it just works. It’s nothing fancy, just a solid, clean listen that doesn't try too hard to be modern or polished. Sometimes you don't need a high-fidelity remaster from some big studio in LA; sometimes you just want that authentic, slightly unvarnished sound that lets the melody breathe. Definitely a nice little addition to the collection.
Man, I was just spinning some old Joe Dassin tracks—specifically that "Darlin'" version from the EX/NM sessions—and it really hit me how much certain vibes just transcend everything. There’s something about that specific era of production that feels so effortless, you know? It’s got that smooth, almost lazy confidence that you just don't hear in modern pop anymore. I remember sitting in a tiny coffee shop back in Seattle a few years ago, raining like crazy outside, just listening to this exact kind of stuff. It wasn't even about the music at first, just the way the melody seemed to settle into the room and make everything feel... I don't know, less chaotic? Anyway, if you haven't sat with this particular cut lately, give it a spin. It’s one of those tracks that demands you just sit still for three minutes and actually listen.
Man, I was just digging through some old crates and stumbled upon this Jimmy Osmond track—"I'm Gonna Knock On Your Door"—and honestly? It’s a total trip. If you weren't around for the bubblegum pop era, you might think it's just another sugary little tune, but there's something about that specific kind of vintage production that hits different when you're older. It’s got that earnest, almost desperate energy that only kid stars from back in the day could pull off—you know, that "I'm gonna love you forever" vibe that feels both incredibly sweet and slightly hilarious looking back. It reminds me of those old Saturday morning variety shows we used to watch in the States—just pure, unadulterated nostalgia wrapped up in a catchy melody. It’s definitely one of those songs that lives rent-free in your head once you hear it. Just a little slice of Americana history right there.
Kajagoogoo – The Lion's Mouth EX/EX
I finally managed to track down a copy of Kim Wilde’s *Love Blonde*—and yeah, I’m talking about that specific EX/NM version that’s been hovering just out of reach for a while now. Honestly, finding stuff like this in such clean condition feels like hitting a jackpot you weren't even looking for. It’s one of those releases that really hits a certain nostalgia, especially if you grew up listening to her stuff on the radio back in the day. Just a solid addition to the collection.
Just picked up a copy of Kim Wilde’s *Dancing In The Dark*—NM/NM condition, which is honestly a miracle for a record this age. It’s one of those albums that just hits different when you’re sitting in your living room with the lights turned way down. There’s something about that late 80s production—it’s polished, sure, but it still has this moody, driving energy that feels incredibly cinematic. I remember hearing some of these tracks back in the day through my buddy's old stereo system, and even then, I was hooked on that specific synth-pop grit she pulls off. It’s not just bubblegum pop; there’s a bit of an edge to it. If you haven't spun this lately, you're seriously missing out. It’s the perfect soundtrack for a rainy night in Seattle or just staring at the ceiling wondering where the time went. Truly a gem.
So, I was digging through some old crates recently—you know how it goes, one minute you’re looking for that one specific jazz fusion record and the next you’re three hours deep into a nostalgia trip—and I stumbled upon this Little Jimmy Osmond track, "Long Haired Lover From Liverpool." It’s one of those weirdly catchy little gems that just hits you right in the gut with all that retro energy. It’s funny how music works, isn't it? You hear a certain beat or a specific vocal inflection and suddenly you're transported back to some random Tuesday afternoon in your childhood living room. This track has that specific kind of polished, slightly kitschy pop vibe that defines an era—it's unapologetic about what it is. There’s something almost comforting about that level of sincerity, even if it feels a bit dated by modern standards. It’s not trying to be edgy or reinvent the wheel; it’s just out there being exactly what it set out to be. Honestly, sometimes we could all use a little more of that kind of straightforwardness in our playlists these days.
So, I finally tracked down a copy of Linda Ronstadt’s "It's So Easy"—specifically an EX/EX pressing—and man, it really hits different when you actually get your hands on it. There's just something about that era of American rock that feels so much more tactile than the digital stuff we're stuck with these days. You know that feeling when you drop the needle and the warmth just fills the room? It’s like stepping back into a smoky club in Nashville or something. I remember sitting in my dorm back in college, probably wasting way too much time, listening to similar tracks on a beat-up turntable that sounded like a lawnmower. But this? This is clean. It’s smooth. Linda’s voice is just... well, she’s a force of nature. Even on a track that isn't her typical ballad style, that power is undeniable. It’s one of those records where you can tell the engineer actually gave a damn about the soundstage. Honestly, if you haven't spent an afternoon just sitting there, doing absolutely nothing but letting a classic like this wash over you, are you even really listening to music? Just a thought.
So, I finally tracked down a copy of Marshall Hain – Dancing In The City (the Generic/EX pressing), and man... let me tell you, digging through crates for this stuff is always a bit of a gamble. You spend half your time praying you don't pull a beat-up record that sounds like someone ran it over with a Jeep, but when you hit gold? It’s worth every second. This specific version is just... chef's kiss. The sound quality is incredibly crisp—way cleaner than those dusty old pressings I used to find at the local flea markets back in Philly. It’s got that perfect, driving disco groove that just makes you want to clear some space in your living room and actually move. It’s one of those tracks that feels like a time machine, taking you straight back to a neon-soaked dance floor in the late 70s. I remember being at this tiny, hole-in-the-wall club near downtown Chicago years ago—super dim lighting, smells like cheap gin and excitement—and hearing something with this exact kind of energy. This record captures that vibe perfectly. It’s smooth, it’s rhythmic, and honestly, it’s just a total blast to spin on the turntable after a long day. If you can find a clean copy of this, don't even think twice—just grab it and run.
I was digging through some old vinyl stacks the other day—you know how it goes, you start looking for one specific record and suddenly two hours have vanished into thin air—and I stumbled upon Mary MacGregor’s "Torn Between Two Lovers." It’s still sitting there in that pristine, near-mint condition state, which feels like a minor miracle given how much I tend to toss my records around. Man, listening to this track really hits different when you're older. When you first hear it, it’s just this catchy, smooth little pop tune from back in the day, but once those lyrics actually sink in... yeah. It’s heavy. It’s that classic, messy human dilemma where nobody is necessarily the "villain," but everyone ends up getting hurt anyway. It captures that paralyzing indecision perfectly—that feeling of being stuck between two different lives or two different people, and knowing that choosing one means losing the other forever. It’s funny how certain songs act like little time machines. One minute you're just enjoying the melody, and the next, you're staring at the wall thinking about your own life choices and all the "what ifs" that kept you up at night back in your twenties. Definitely a gem for the collection, though. It’s one of those tracks that stays with you long after the needle lifts off the wax.
Just picked up this Milva record—*Da Troppo Tempo / I Tetti Rossi Di Casa Mia*—in some pretty stellar VG+/VG+ condition. Honestly, finding vintage pressings that haven't been thrashed by decades of heavy hands is getting harder by the day. It’s one of those gems that just hits different when you drop the needle and realize the audio quality actually holds up. If you're into that classic vibe, this one is definitely worth a spot on the shelf.
So, I was digging through some old vinyl the other day—you know, that dusty corner of the living room where everything feels like a time capsule—and I stumbled upon Marie Osmond’s "Paper Roses." Man, talk about a trip down memory lane. It’s one of those songs that just hits you right in the nostalgia, isn't it? There’s something about that specific era of music—that polished, almost dreamy production—that makes you feel like you're sitting in a diner in a small Midwest town at 2 AM. I started thinking about how much things have changed since those tracks first hit the airwaves. Back then, you’d just sit by the radio and let a song wash over you, no skipping, no playlists, just pure vibes. Now, we’ve got everything at our fingertips, but sometimes I miss that feeling of waiting for that one specific track to come on. It also made me think about how certain artists just hold onto that classic, heartfelt storytelling style. Whether it's "Paper Roses" or something more upbeat, she had this way of making you feel the lyrics. It’s funny how a simple melody can trigger such a specific mood—kind of a bittersweet, quiet sort of melancholy—that stays with you long after the needle lifts off the record. Just one of those little moments of reflection while cleaning out the house, I guess.
Mystic – In The Year 2525 EX-/EX
So, I finally got my hands on this Nilsen Brothers pressing—it’s that Sacramento/Sweetheart Generic release in EX condition. Honestly, finding these things around in such good shape is like hitting a tiny bit of luck in a sea of scratched-up junk. It’s one of those records that just feels right when you pull it out of the sleeve—no pops, no clicks, just that clean, smooth sound that makes you wonder why everything else in my collection sounds like it was recorded through a tin can. I spent most of last night just sitting there, spinning this thing, nursing a coffee, and letting the tracks wash over me. It’s a total vibe. If you ever stumble across a copy of this in a crate, don't overthink it—just grab it and run.
I was digging through some old crates the other day—you know how it goes, one minute you’re looking for a specific jazz fusion record and the next you’ve spent three hours down a rabbit hole of obscure psych-rock—and I stumbled upon this Passengers track, "He's Speedy Like Gonzales." It's an EX/EX pressing, which honestly makes the whole experience feel a bit more special when the needle actually hits the groove. There’s just something about that era of music that feels so much more intentional, isn't there? You can practically hear the room they recorded it in. This track has this specific, driving energy to it—it doesn't scream at you, but it definitely moves. It’s got that laid-back, almost effortless swagger that makes you want to lean back in your chair and just let the rhythm do the heavy lifting. I remember playing something similar back in my college days up in Seattle—just sitting in a cramped apartment with a couple of friends, trying to act like we were music critics while we actually just vibed to whatever was spinning on the turntable. It’s funny how certain sounds can instantly trigger those specific, hazy memories of being twenty and thinking you had all the time in the world. Anyway, if you haven't tracked down a copy of this, do yourself a favor and hunt it down. It’s a total mood.
So, I finally tracked down a copy of Paul Anka’s *Love Me Warm And Tender*—it’s sitting somewhere in that sweet spot between Generic and VG+, you know? Not quite mint, but it’s got that lived-in soul that makes you want to just kick back and let it spin. Honestly, listening to this stuff takes me back—I remember my old man used to have these kinds of crooners playing in the background while he was tinkering in the garage back in Ohio. It’s that specific kind of smooth, effortless nostalgia that hits you right in the chest. Anka really knew how to lean into those romantic arrangements without making them feel too over-the-top or cheesy, which is a fine line to walk if you ask me. It’s a solid little find for the collection. Nothing flashy, just some classic, beautifully produced tracks that remind you why we bother collecting vinyl in the first place. If you ever see one floating around a local shop in a place like Chicago or Nashville, grab it. It’s worth the listen.
I was digging through some old archives the other day—you know how it is when you go down those rabbit holes at 2 AM—and I stumbled upon this Penny McLean track, "Lady Bump." It’s one of those classic EX/EX era vibes that just hits different when you remember the scene back then. There’s something about that specific production style that feels like a time capsule, honestly. It’s got that driving energy that makes you want to turn the volume up way too high while you're just hanging out in your living room. Just a little nostalgic gem for the collection.
Found this gem recently—Perry Como’s *Just Born (To Be Your Baby)*. It’s a VG+ copy, though just a heads up, there’s no cover included. Honestly, for a guy like Como, the vocals alone make it worth the hunt if you can handle the naked sleeve. Such a smooth vibe... definitely one of those records that makes you want to pour a drink and just lean back for a while.
Found this absolute gem at a local shop the other day—Peoples' Blend, specifically their *Paloma Blanca / Come On Home* pressing. It’s a VG+/VG+ copy, which honestly, in this market, feels like hitting the jackpot. I was digging through some dusty crates near a little hole-in-the-wall spot back in Philly—you know the type, smells like old paper and cheap coffee—and this one just jumped out at me. There’s something about that specific era of soul and groove that hits different when you actually take the time to sit down and listen. No background noise, no distractions, just the needle dropping and that warm, analog magic taking over the room. It’s one of those records that makes you realize why we still bother with vinyl in the first place. You can’t get this kind of texture from a streaming playlist, no matter how many algorithms they throw at you. Anyway, if anyone else has been hunting for this one, let me know—it’s a total mood.
I finally managed to get my hands on a copy of Peter Holm’s "Monia / My Prayer"—specifically looking for that sweet spot of VG+ to EX grading—and man, it was worth the hunt. There's just something about these specific pressings that hits different, you know? It’s one of those records where if the vinyl isn't pristine, the whole vibe just falls apart. I spent way too much time scouring the local shops and digging through online listings, but finding a copy in this condition felt like a genuine win. Just sat down with it last night, dropped the needle, and let the sound wash over me... absolutely stellar.
Just picked up this Rita Pavone record—*La Partita Di Pallone / Come Te Non C'È Nessuno*—and honestly, it’s in surprisingly solid shape for being an older pressing. I'd call it a solid VG/Generic grade, which is pretty decent if you're looking for that vintage vibe without paying museum prices. It’s got that classic soulfulness that just hits different when you drop the needle. Definitely worth a spin if you're digging for something with a bit of character.
So, I finally tracked down a copy of Salomé’s *Vivo Cantando*—the one with the *Amigos, Amigos* VG+ and EX grading—and man, digging through these old vinyl finds is always such a trip. It’s funny how you can spend half your weekend hunting for a specific pressing just to feel that hit of dopamine when you finally drop the needle. Anyway, I was sitting there with my coffee, spinning this, and just thinking about how much better physical media feels compared to everything else we have now. There's just something about the ritual of it all, you know? Definitely worth the hunt if you can find it in decent shape.
So, I finally tracked down a copy of Santa Esmeralda’s "Don't Let Me Be Misunderstood"—found it in a dusty crate at a local shop over in Chicago—and honestly? It’s sitting at a solid G+/VG grade for me. It’s got those little surface scuffs you expect from a record that’s actually been lived with, but man, once the needle drops, all that noise just melts away. There’s something about this specific version that hits different. You know how some pressings feel thin or rushed? This one feels lush. That disco-infused groove is just... chef's kiss. I was spinning it the other night while nursing a bourbon and just staring at the ceiling, thinking about how much better music felt before everything became a compressed digital file. It’s got that warm, analog soul that makes you want to turn the volume up just a hair too high—not that I'm complaining. If you can find a clean copy of this, don't sleep on it. It's a total vibe.
Just stumbled upon this gem—the Saragossa Band’s "Agadou / Holiday Nights" pressing. It’s sitting right in that sweet spot of EX/VG+, which honestly means it sounds pretty damn good for its age. If you're into that old-school, upbeat vibe, this one hits the spot perfectly. Just a little something to add some flavor to the collection.
Man, I was digging through some old crates the other day—you know how it is, just looking for a bit of soul when the weather turns gray—and I stumbled onto this absolute gem. It’s that Sha-na-na oldie, "Chantilly Lace" paired with "Heartbreak Hotel." Honestly? Talk about a killer combo. There's just something about that early rock and roll energy—it hits different when you find a version that actually captures that raw, unpolished feeling. It’s got that perfect mix of that upbeat, almost frantic doo-wop vibe and then that sudden, moody pivot into the bluesy stuff. It reminded me of one of those summer nights back in high school in Chicago—just driving around with the windows down, nothing but static on the radio until you hit a station that actually played something with some grit. Anyway, if you haven't sat with this pairing lately, do yourself a favor. It’s a total mood.
So, I finally got my hands on this Smokie record—*I'll Meet You At Midnight / Miss You*—and honestly? It’s such a vibe. I managed to snag a VG+/VG+ copy, which, let’s be real, is getting harder to find these days without paying some ridiculous collector's premium. There’s just something about that late-70s production that hits differently when you're sitting in a dim room with a drink in hand. It’s smooth, it’s melodic, and it’s got that specific kind of nostalgic warmth that makes you want to just stare out a window and think about old flames—nothing too dramatic, just that quiet, wistful feeling. "I'll Meet You At Midnight" is basically the sonic equivalent of a rainy night in Seattle, if you know what I mean. The grading held up beautifully, too. No major pops or clicks to ruin the groove—just pure, unadulterated soft rock bliss. If you haven't spun this lately, do yourself a favor and give it a listen. It’s one of those albums that doesn't need to scream to get your attention; it just sits there and settles into your soul.
I was digging through some old playlists the other day—you know how it is, just falling down a rabbit hole of nostalgia—and I stumbled back onto Smokie’s "Mexican Girl." Man, that track hits different when you're older. It’s got that specific kind of mid-tempo groove that just stays under your skin. It’s funny how certain songs act like little time machines. Every time that chorus kicks in, I can almost smell the stale coffee and cheap air freshener from my first beat-up sedan back in college. I remember driving around Austin in the middle of a humid July, windows down, thinking I was way cooler than I actually was, just blasting tracks like this one. There’s something about that era of songwriting—it wasn't trying too hard to be edgy or overproduced. It was just honest, catchy, and had this soulful undertone that modern pop seems to struggle with lately. It’s a classic for a reason. Anyone else find themselves looping these kinds of deep cuts when they need to just tune out the world?
Telly Savalas - This Is Telly Savalas... VG+/VG+
Tina Charles – Dance Little Lady Dance / Why NM/NM
Tom Astor – Hallo, Guten Morgen Deutschland VG+/VG+
Vicky Leandros - Théo, On Va Au Bal / L'Amour Est Rouge VG+/EX
Wilson Pickett – In The Midnight Hour / Land Of 1000 Dances EX/EX
The Nashville Sound Collective - Stars Are Shining* EX/G+
Ana Stevens - Happy With You VG+/VG+
Bo Jackson - Some Days / Early Morning EX/EX
New Era - New Style / You're Not a Baby G+/VG+
Red Coral – Most Beautiful Dream G+/VG
Gulf Coast Troubadours - Luna / Green Rosemary EX/EX
Dustin Miller - Dear Maria / Table For Two EX/EX
Duo Pegla – You Took My Love / Without Your Love VG+/VG+
Local Band - Under the Window Generic/VG+
Ivan Serf - Give Me Back My Heart VG+/VG+
Kanarinac - Stone Heart VG+/VG
Liberty Records - Nostalgia EX/EX
Wild Years - Living Like an Ark / Sompompilović Pitipitikovski EX/VG+
Wandering Hearts - Jefimija / Reach Out Your Hands VG+/VG+
Lyra Dimmit - We Play, We Play / Kawasaki EX/EX
Lyra Dimmit - Lead Me To The Circus / Grant One Wish VG+/VG+
Lyra Dimmit - Ciao! / Let Them Just Talk EX/EX
Lyra Dimmit - Music Remains / The Sun Shines, It's a Beautiful Day EX/EX
Lyra Dimmit - Only Music (When Music Sounds) / Memories With Guitar VG+/VG+
Mickey Jevremovic - Alone VG+/EX
Mickey Jevremovic – My Only One / Don't Wait For Me EX/EX
Miro Ungar & The 777 Group - Save Your Love (Keep Love For Us) EX/NM
Nada Obric - Don't Let Another Love You / Oh, My Tears EX/EX
Nano Prsa - Hey, Dona, Dona / Visit Me VG+/VG+
Neda Ukraden - I Still Only Remember Your Name / Let The Tears Speak, Honey VG/EX
New Fossils - Who Holds Their Head High / Dream Of Me EX/EX
New Fossils - My Eye / I Remember EX/EX
Oliver - Mama / Antonio NM/NM
Oliver* - Melancholy / Romance VG+/EX
Oliver* - If I Lose You CG+/CG+
Predrag Gojkovic Cune - Halisko EX/VG+
Pro Arte – Tike-Tike Tačke / Nobody, Nobody P/VG
Pro Arte – Jasmina / Sobbing EX/VG+
Pro Arte – Elena / All Alone In The World VG+/VG+
Rockers Moravu - They Love Chili Bean Stew / Bosiljka EX/EX
Rockers Moravu - Milka / Milojko EX/EX
Rockers Moravu - Miloica & Stojadinka VG+/VG+
Rockers Moravu - Ljubisa Pours A Beer To Cool Down / Weeds Grow Around The Yard EX/EX
Slavko Perovic – Glass Of Bitter Tears Generic/VG
Shaban Saulic - I'd Know You Amidst A Thousand Women / You Only Loved Me Falsely EX/VG+
Tereza - Forget If You Can / If I Had Met You Before VG+/VG+
Tereza - America, I Love You / My Love, My Home EX/EX
Tereza - Youth, My Beautiful Joy / Friends... VG+/VG+
Tereza - All Springtimes Are In Me / I Didn't Know EX/EX
Tereza - What Remained Of Love / Miholjice EX/EX
Toni Leskovar - We Are Revelers / Through Downtown EX/VG+
Various - Gulf Coast Melodies 4. - New Orleans 67 (7", EP) EX/EX
Various - Memphis 66 - Record 1. EX/VG+
Various – American Successes 2 EX/VG
Zdravko Colic - Love Has A False Shine / Ballerina VG+/EX
Zdravko Colic - Bad Voice / I Can't Be Yours VG/EX
Zoran Lekovic - She Is The Most Beautiful / She Loves Me VG+/EX