London Boys - The Twelve Commandments Of Dance
WEA  (1989)
Euro Disco

In Collection

CD Album    12 tracks  (47:47) 
   01   Requiem             04:20
   02   Kimbaley (My Ma-Mama Say)             04:17
   03   Harlem Desire             03:49
   04   Chinese Radio             03:49
   05   Wichitah Woman             03:59
   06   My Love             03:07
   07   London Nights             04:03
   08   I'm Gonna Give My Heart             04:09
   09   El Matinero             04:14
   10   Dance Dance Dance             03:57
   11   Sandra             04:51
   12   The Midi Dance             03:12
Personal Details
Purchase Date
Price £0.49
Store That's Entertainment (Metro Centre - now closed)
Location Folder 13
Cat. Number 2292-46036-2
UPC (Barcode) 022924603624
Packaging Sleeveless
Spars AAD
Sound Stereo
Oh dear. I think I've sunk lower into the "Criminal Record" bracket than I ever have done before, though, secretly, deep down, I've wanted this album since I was about 9.

Let's start with where I first heard some of the songs on it. "Requiem" received a lot of airplay, but it wasn't until "London Nights" was released that I decided I must have the album. Back then, there wasn't much money floating around, so I didn't get the chance to buy the album, on tape, until the following year. We were on holiday, at Sandy Bay, and although I could have purchased my first album, I declined and instead purchased "Advanced Soccer Simulator" for the Spectrum. In hindsight, I made the right choice.

Fast forward to 1991. I was in Whitby, on a day out. I was starting to grow up a little (read. not a lot), and secretly regretted not buying that album. On this particular day out, I had a walkman, and only a couple of shite tapes with me. Remembering my love for this album, I rushed into Woolworths, handed my saved-up pocket money to the (probably bemused) lady behind the counter. I walked out, tape in hand, happy in the knowledge I finally had this album. Remember, at this point, I had only heard two tracks from the album.

I opened the case, and was about to insert the tape into the afore-mentioned walkman. It was at that point, I heard a rattling coming from the tape. Absolute disaster! One of the copper/felt things that are meant to gently push the tape towards the head had inserted itself in the tape casing. We trudged back off to Woolworths, and predictably, it was the last copy they had in stock. that meant, as that particular tape headed off to the furnace of faultiness, I had to choose a different album. I chose "Runaway Horses" by Belinda Carlisle. I still own this tape (somewhere), and obviously have it on CD too.

I'd pretty much forgotten about "The 12 Commandments of Dance" until someone on a chatroom I used to belong to, mentioned they had a copy. Trades were made, postal addresses were exchanged, and I think I ended up swapping a Will Smith single for it. It was then, and only then, I realised that I'd made those right purchases oh-so-many years ago. It turns out, except for the tracks I knew, the album is diabolically bad. If you listen to the album all in one go, by the end of the fourth track, you'll probably want to remove your ears. I think I only played the tape once, loaned it to Chris, and I have no recollection of ever seeing it again. He probably did give me it back, but due to my dislike of the album, and also the lack of being able to play tapes, it's ended up "somewhere", cosnidered lost.

While on a day out to Newcastle, Jamie S did his level best to keep me out of "That's Entertainment". The one in Eldon Square, and the one in Newcastle. It didn't work. Before he knew it, I was rummaging through entire boxes of loose CDs. My CD cataloguing system works well enough to not need cases. Anyway, as you can probably gather, this CD appeared amongst the piles of other crap. I was almost embarrassed to buy it. I bought another couple of CDs I didn't really want, just so I didn't draw attention to the fact I was purchasing this CD. I needn't have bothered. the guy behind the counter was so young, he still had traces of breat milk on his lips, and the chance of him actually knowing who the "London Boys" where, were slim to none.