Collecting log: You Can Collect, But You Better Not Fold? — Japan's early 3-inch CD singles in snap-packs (including promotional sample copies)

My recent hunting in the domestic market yielded three rare "sample" copies of very early 3-inch CD singles, originally issued in Japan-only snap-pack packages. Here, “snap” refers to the perforated section of the long cardboard sleeve that could be bent along the crease and folded into a compact square. For collectors, intact (unsnapped) packs are obviously the most desirable, but casual purchasers — and radio-station staff handling sample copies — typically followed the package’s instruction and snapped them for easier storage, as shown here. The inset shows the rear side of each release. 

With the Japanese currency (yen) remaining weak against the U.S. dollar and international postage becoming increasingly expensive, my overseas-focused collecting has fallen to an all-time low — these days, I actually find more pleasure in uncovering bargain finds on the domestic market. To be honest, I was never especially keen on domestic releases (as I explain here), and a major gap in my Japanese collection lies in CD singles — both commercial editions and promotional samples.

When folded into their compact form (see the image at the top), Japanese 3-inch CD singles closely resemble contemporary Austrian digipack releases in the same disc format — my personal favorite. As shown, I own two unopened copies of Tougher Than The Rest (live) / Chimes Of Freedom (live) / Born To Run (acoustic live) (CBS 653192 3), although their clear “CBS CD3 SINGLE” logo blister packs have deteriorated and turned brownish over time, much like the protective case for the Super Bit Mapping version of BORN IN THE U.S.A. issued in Japan (see 07/29/2025).

The most distinctive aspect of Japanese CD singles was the snap-pack (or tanzaku* in Japanese), a packaging format introduced in the late 1980s at the dawn of the CD era and used until the 3-inch (8 cm) disc format fell out of production in the mid-to-late 1990s. Unlike the standard jewel case, cardboard sleeve, or digipack seen elsewhere, snap-pack was a long, slim cardboard package — roughly twice the height of the small 3-inch disc it contained.
*Tanzaku denotes long, narrow paper strips traditionally employed in Japan for the inscription of wishes, poems, and short messages.

Its defining feature was a pre-creased design: the lower half could be folded upward and “snapped” into a compact square, allowing it to be stored like a miniature jacketed CD. As a result, snap-packs have become a uniquely Japanese collectible, distinguished by (1) exclusive artwork layouts, (2) Japan-only designs and branding, and (3) a format that visually stands apart from Western releases.

Early snap-pack releases were designed to be snapped down into a smaller 3-inch-by-3-inch package, with the sleeve folded so that the front tab could be inserted into the rear slot — a feature clearly visible on 1988 singles, although absent from the first title, Tunnel Of Love (far left). Over time, this fold-down feature became less obvious in the artwork and package, even though it remained technically usable, as seen in Human Touch and 57 Channels (And Notin' On) in 1992. Note that the Blood Brothers 5-track EP (Sony SRVM 1524–5; far right), issued in 1996 as a bonus with the Japanese VHS home video of the same title (SMV Enterprises SRLM 1519), is a double 3-inch release and therefore was not originally intended to fold.

It appears that the sample copy (right) of Springsteen’s first-ever CD single released in Japan mistakenly omitted the warning needed when playing a 3-inch CD on a non-compatible CD deck. I don't know if the same variant was available for the regular copies. Note that half of the plastic tray holding the sample disc was removed to allow the package to be folded into a compact form, as instructed on the sleeve.

This naturally raises the question: Should snap-packs be folded or not? While manufacturers and retailers initially encouraged buyers to fold them for convenience, most collectors — myself included — have long preferred to leave them unfolded to preserve their original appearance and value. As a result, the sleeve design, originally intended to be folded, later evolved into layouts that made folding less appealing — in Springsteen’s case, this can be seen in Human Touch / Better Days (Sony SRDS 8226) and 57 Channels (And Nothin' On) / Part Man, Part Monkey (SRDS 8231), both released in 1992 (see the image immediately above).

Recently, I obtained a few sample copies of Springsteen's early snap-pack singles at surprisingly low prices (shown in the top and bottom images). Unfortunately, they were no longer intact: their surplus sections had been trimmed away and the sleeves folded into their compact form — suggesting that they were originally distributed to radio stations for promotional use and retained there before eventually entering second-hand circulation.

Interestingly, the inner sleeve design of Tunnel Of Love / Brilliant Disguise (CBS/Sony 10EP 3001), Springsteen’s first-ever CD single released in Japan on February 26, 1988, differs slightly between sample and regular copies: the sample copy omits the notice instructing users to apply an adapter when playing a 3-inch disc on a non-compatible CD deck (i.e., slot-in CD players), leaving that space blank. I could not find a similar variation in the sample copies of Tunnel Of Love Express I and II (CBS/Sony 15EP 8009 and 8010).

No "sample" sticker is affixed to the rear sleeve of the Tunnel Of Love / Brilliant Disguise single (left), although the disc itself bears a black-inked "sample" imprint in Japanese katakana characters on its inner rim.

What surprised me most, though, was how good these folded sleeves looked (see the top image above) — arguably neater and more attractive than the pristine, unfolded snap-pack or tanzaku form, which, if anything, appears a bit awkward by comparison. Given that these 3-inch CD singles were released close to 40 years ago, this was a small but genuinely unexpected realization in my collecting experience — despite my own insistence on keeping all my first-hand copies perfectly intact.