iTunes: 1990 Style

I did not have an allowance as a child. In fact, I never received an allowance and envied any friend of mine who did have one. The concept was so foreign to me, but my father said if I wanted money, the lawnmower was in the garage. Hell no! So when it came to money, I had two ways to acquire it... legally. One, I would have to ask my parents for money. This was a problem because my parents would ask me what the money was for, a major crimp in my plans. Explaining to Italian immigrants what my wishes as an American child seemed like an extreme excess to them. Not wanting to endure the third degree over any potential purchase, I was forced to go to plan B: Birthday money. Birthday money and, to a lesser extent, Christmas money was my income for the year. I could do with it what I wanted, despite my parents’ cry to save my money and put it in the bank. For what reason? Baseball cards needed to be purchased! Wiffle balls need to be replenished! And dare I even use my money for a video game? Damn right I will.

One of my landmark purchases during this time happened in early 1990. My first music purchase. My musical taste was primitive and was largely based on what my brother had playing on his boombox in our room. He controlled the radio. Very few exceptions. So I mirrored his tastes to an extent. At this point, I don’t think we had moved to rock. We were disciples to Eagle 106, a Philly Top 40 station featuring John Lander and the Nut Hut. So Top 40 we liked. Paula Abdul, Janet Jackson, Rob Base and DJ EZ Rock, Young MC, Tone-Loc, Guns N’ Roses, Tom Petty and whoever was burning up the scene at the time was what was consumed. I took it in since I had no choice in the matter. I liked it, that wasn’t the issue. The issue was getting my own music instead of crudely taping the radio on a cassette I was hoping no one needed.

My first music purchase wasn’t from the usual suspects. Billy Joel wasn’t a force in my life until late grade school/early high school, I had almost no knowledge of The Beatles, so I had to rely on what I heard on the radio and watching America’s Top 10 with Casey Kasem every Saturday morning (I wouldn’t get cable and subsequently MTV for another six years). So in December of 1989, a song that had been released a few months before had finally made it to number one. I was in love with the song and wanted to listen to it constantly. To this day, I have no idea WHY that song enthralled me, but it did. A couple weeks later, after it spent a more time at number one, I decided I needed to own that song. It was “Another Day In Paradise” by Phil Collins. It was a song about homelessness in America. Did that message strike a chord within me? Was I moved by the imagery of the video? Of course not. I was ten. Processing empathy at that age, let alone now, would be a struggle. I guess I just kinda liked the melody and Phil Collins’ distinct voice.



Being poor, I made the economical choice in my purchase. It was also the popular household choice for purchasing music. I bought the Cassingle. Ah yes, the Cassingle! Two, maybe three songs if you were lucky, were held on this thing. Encased in a simple cardboard sleeve, the Cassingle allowed you to purchase just the song you wanted to hear and not all the other crap for the sweet price of $0.99. Two songs for a buck. Sounds similar to our digital model now. I don't remember the purchase, but I remember it was at a Sam Goody in the Roosevelt Mall. They had rows of singles and I had found Phil in a stark black and white cover. The Phil Collins Cassingle came backed with a song "Heat In the Street". I think I listened to that side of the tape three times. Maybe four. No matter. I purchased that tape for the A-side and it would join the rest of the Cassingles in the collection.

Cassingles were everywhere in my room. Mostly tucked away in our nightstand drawer, neatly arranged, alphabetized. My brother bought the clear majority of them, again he with more money that I, but it seemed a better alternative to us rather than getting an album and slogging through a bunch of filler. We were children of Top 40, so naturally all we wanted to hear was the hits. We had no intention of hearing the other album tracks to Was (Not Was). Just wanted to “Walk the Dinosaur”.

The Cassingle boom was short lived and so was my fascination with Top 40 pop. Eagle 106 went away and WYSP with Howard Stern in the morning and their classic rock format during the day were planting the seeds in my soul (due to my brother because he still controlled the radio). I got my first CD/cassette combo player in 1992 and CD singles, along with actual full albums, were being purchased with my stockpiled money and whatever Santa left me under the tree. Cassettes were still being played (thanks to rampant copying), but the Cassingle was a memory. I left Phil Collins and Top 40 behind and my current musical personality started to take form. I still to this day can’t figure out what really appealed to me about that song and why I purchased it. It’s a good song, but it was never one of those memorable tracks that defines you. It just happened to be right place, right time.

I’m sure that cassette is still at my parents’ house, along with Living Colour, Bobby Brown, Taylor Dayne, Biz Markie. God knows what other Cassingles were in that nightstand drawer. I miss those tapes.