Usually the venue would contract with a small, local record label to press the album for souvenir purposes. The record may never have been exchanged for money, and it may be the only surviving proof of the act's existence. Recognizable record companies and subsequent albums signify success, or at least its potential. But success immediately erases all previous lounge-act status. Pop stars, no matter how shabby, put forth their own music.
Lounge acts are mere phantoms, reflections, always distorted and hazy, as a mirage.
Lounge-act records provide authentic, indelible glimpses into the lower strata of bygone tourist traps. Solo male lounge acts typically are nerdy, middle-aged men sporting thick, black, square, plastic spectacles. Autographs, often desperately scrawled all over the back in giant marker, may relate an affectionate connection between performer and attendee. Despite the popularity of solo torch singers, records by solo female lounge acts are scarce. No doubt the nature of the business at this level meant associations with males were more likely to result in a record.