Artist: Randy Bell
LP: 7" single
The instructions on the cover say to cut along the dotted yellow lines, and then you end up with a sexy mini-poster of singer Randy Bell exposing his hairy chest and torso, attractively tanned. You also end up with nowhere to properly store your record. (Using the modern miracle of Photoshop, I was able to create the sexy poster of Randy without cutting on dotted lines, see below.) The poster does seem decidedly at odds with the title of the song, especially as performed by someone called "Randy." Reverse psychology, perhaps? Randy Bell's "Don't Do Me" single peaked at #90 on the Billboard Hot 100 back in July of 1984.
I found my copy at Bill's Records when I was in Dallas, Texas, for the AIRS conference last month. The single was mixed in among about a million others that were all scattered helter-skelter on the shelves at Bill's, not in neat little stacks as shown in the photo here. Bill had warned me when I first asked if he had any 45s: "Just be sure when you're looking at them that they don't slide off the shelves and onto the floor." The man doesn't know me, clearly. Of course I put them in neat stacks after I had sorted through them, partly so they would look neat and I could tell which ones I'd already sorted through, and partly because I was hoping Bill would notice and give me a discount for helping to organize his store.
Anyway, Bill showed me his shelves of 45s, gave me a chair, and I sat down and began sifting. I found some neat things, though nothing was priced. I'd arrived at around 9pm and the store closed at 10, but Bill said he was willing to stay if I was still shopping. Finally at 10:25pm I decided I'd better head back to the hotel so I'd be fresh for my early morning at the conference the next day. (I hadn't even made it through half of Bill's singles; I could have stayed 'til 10am.) I went to the counter and handed Bill the 20 singles I wanted and he counted them several times. There were 20 every time. While I was waiting, a portly young man with the strongest, cutest Texas-hick accent I've ever laid ears on came up to the counter to purchase a single record. (He said he had traveled to the big city from a small town about an hour away.) Since all Bill had done with my order so far was count my records three times, I suggested he ring this other fellow up before he continued helping me.
Bill looked at the record the guy wanted, flipped it over, then noted, "Al B. Sure...and it's a promo 12" single, those are rare. It doesn't have a cover..." (it's true, the guy was buying a record in a plain white paper inner sleeve, with no cardboard outer cover. And the white paper sleeve was even bent at the corners!) "...how about ten dollars?" The rural Texas Al B. Sure fanatic handed over a $10 bill as my knees buckled and I fainted to the floor. If Bill was overcharging this poor fellow by $9.85 for some stupid Al B. Sure single with no cover, what would he want me to pay for my stack of 7" singles, all with picture sleeves?
Well, I didn't find out for about another 45 minutes. Bill instead went on to discuss his dinner (his friend had gotten it for him from McDonald's), the history of his store (Echo & the Bunnymen once played there in the '80s!), the way his clothes fit (he prefers a looser fit), his long history in the record store business (he's had a store for years!), etc...all of which was fascinating, but none of which got me any closer to my bed at the hotel, with or without these 45s. I figured this must be the Texas way of doing business, so I just nodded and smiled, nodded and smiled. Bill finally did get around to naming a price, which he told me was a deal. I'm not even going to tell you what it was, but let's just say I made a counter offer, which was rejected. I even mentioned my straightening of the shelves, but to no avail. Bill pointed out that a few of the items I wanted were imports that were new when he'd obtained them, which I have to admit is true. Bill didn't want to lose money on them. But another thing that's true is that these valuable imports had been gathering dust, stuffed in among scuffed copies of Debbie Gibson, Carly Simon, and Huey Lewis 45s on his plywood shelves since the year 1990, so they probably should have been priced to move about 22 years ago.
I then tried to negotiate by reducing the number of singles I was buying, but after I removed some from the pile (brand new Erasure imports from the late '80s) Bill began counting and re-counting the records again and I realized I was back to square one. I finally agreed to buy all 20 singles after talking Bill down from the absurd dollar amount he was asking to a slightly lower amount that was merely ridiculous. Anyway, I'd had such a weirdly wonderful visit during my extended time there, I figured I probably owed Bill at least a little bit of money for that.
My cell phone battery had died right when I got to Bill's Records, which is why I've had to borrow photos of Bill and his store from the web. Not only was I bummed that I had no means of snapping my own pictures there, but I also had no way of radioing a Lyft driver to get a trip back to my hotel. I was planning to walk. Bill wondered aloud if this was safe, since several police officers had been assassinated just down the street several months ago. He consulted with the friendly fellow who was taking the trash out from the bar next door, and they agreed that I should walk several blocks in a different direction to catch the train instead, since it would take me downtown and drop me near my destination. The trains were running until midnight, so I still had 25 minutes. I ended up back at the hotel just after midnight.
If you're ever in Dallas and you collect vinyl, I definitely recommend you go to Bill's...after stopping by an ATM to withdraw way more money than you'd ever imagine you would need to buy a few records.
[ Bill's Records — Dallas, Texas ]
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