Now that's what I call a 12-inch!

Following on from yesterday's post, today I received another trio of tunes. When I started this blog, I knew that I'd unearth other gems besides the number ones. So hands up, who remembers The Lotus Eaters? They were a Liverpool-based band whose star shone brightly in the summer of 1983 (when I was still at primary school). They had one solitary hit, 'The First Picture Of You' – that reached number 15 on the chart. it reputedly received the most radio airplay in the UK that year and every time I hear it, it takes me back to seven weeks of summer holidays.

Frontman Peter Coyle has his own website, though parts of it don't appear to have been updated for some time. I believe the band reconvened for some live performances in 2010, though. Perhaps some musicians I know who were gigging around locally in the 1980s might know him or the band and can feed my nostalgia. Though the song itself is, for me, as seminal as the one hit achieved by another Liverpool band at the end of the decade – 'There She Goes' by The La's. Sometimes it's the songs on the fringes of prevailing fads and trends which ultimately linger longest in people's memories.

The other 12-inch singles in today's batch were 'Where Are You Baby?' by Betty Boo (above) and 'Don't You Want Me' by The Human League. The first of those can also be seen as ground-breaking in its own way. I remember being impressed that Betty Boo (aka Alison Clarkson) had skills in sound technology, DJ mixing, sampling and the like. Betty Boo rose to prominence when dance music was very male-dominated. It probably still is.

Regarding the Human League, as with several other singles, I had to buy three copies before I finally got hold of a copy that played without a hitch. My playable copy was a factory-sealed 2012 reissue. I need to remember that the record may be a classic, but it's a 33-year-old classic! Second-hand copies of big hits – like the Christmas number one from 1981 – won't always be in pristine condition. But in any case, I'm now slowly reaching the point where my obsession will gradually diminish. Once I've tracked down a few more synth pop classics to join The Human League and others in my vinyl vaults, I'll simply carry on collecting number ones from other decades as and when I see them.

Fourth time lucky?

After a couple of months of being busy with work, today I thought I'd give you an update and voice my frustration over my quest to acquire all the UK number one 7" singles of the 1980s in playable condition. As the rain lashes down outside on this dismal Tuesday, it's still a case of mission impossible, it seems.

As I am now addicted to vinyl, I'm also collecting 1970s classics (including number ones) too. So this morning, the postman delivered three singles: 'Pinball Wizard' by Elton John (plays perfectly), 'Night Fever' by The Bee Gees (plays perfectly) and a third single – of which I now own three faulty copies:

Ignoring the musical merits of some DJs from Rotherham sampling and mixing together some old tunes for us all to dance to at family weddings, Jive Bunny scored three UK number ones in 1989. 'Swing The Mood' was the first of them. The record is now also the only 7" I need to complete the list of the 190 chart-toppers of the 1980s.

To make matters worse, on visual inspection, every 7" in the photo looks to be in great condition for a 25-year-old bit of plastic. But I'm puzzled as to why all three copies jump in exactly the same place – at around 2:34 when Elvis sings "I'm itching like a man in a fuzzy tree". I have no idea why this keeps happening.

Relatively few records have given me any trouble since I began collecting obsessively in April of this year. Besides this record, I've probably bought second copies of four or five other 80s number ones, with some playability issues also concerning several of the 12" singles I'm also collecting. A record cleaning kit will be on my Christmas list, though for the time being, I'm taking a chance on a fourth copy of 'Swing The Mood'.

I'm grateful that the last tune I need is easy to find at a cheap price. I'm now awaiting delivery of another copy, this time on a now-defunct Belgian record label called Indisc. My hope is that a non-UK pressing of the record may make a difference and shouldn't jump in the same place as the other three. But if that blasted bunny continues to hop all over my turntable, I swear he'll end up in a stew! In the meantime, if anyone out there has any ideas about how I can clean up the copies I already have – I'm all ears.