The follow-up to their 1990 debut 'Colossus' and released a full 27 months before they found fame aboard the Britpop bandwagon with 'Trilobite', these eight tracks showcase the Halifax fourpiece at their most credible and least talented. If you don't own this album, you're a complete fucking idiot. If you do own it, you're an even bigger complete fucking idiot. But if you don't own it, you're a complete fucking idiot. Discographicalz Colossus (1990) Playing Shit (Live, Bootleg, 1991) Calamine 71 (1992) Trilobite (1995) Bring the Canard (1997) What we did was what we done (Compilation, 1998) Trilobite 2000.3b (2003) The Flaccid Harmonicans fuck off (Compilation/live/rarities, 2004)          

A modern, postmodern, postclassic album by any definition, everybody knows somebody who hasn't heard German Scheisserock band Participle 's debut 'The moment of completion', from 2016. Not one, not two, not three, not even seventy-three, but sixty-eight full minutes of pure, unadulterated hardcore bongodongle. Jens Großerball's uniquely compelling purple synthesiser shines through like a wasted tomato. Running time: 63 minutes. Discographicalz The Moment of Completion (2016) Much Wickedness (2019)

No hypothetical vinyl collection would be complete without this Jazz standard from 1958. What happens when you get a 23 piece big band in the same studio as a 27 piece swing band, 30 session musicians and a single microphone? This. This happens. Legend has it that any Jazz musician alive in the late 1950s who didn't play on this recording is either lying, mistaken, or not alive in the late 1950s. At one point there are 37 trumpets, 12 clarinets and an Absinthe-filled double bass, all playing concurrently and all in different keys and time signatures. The standout track is the Marimba solo 'Cool Cheese', possibly the only solo in history on which over 100 people played and three lost their lives. Classy.

If you're aged anywhere between 36-and-three-quarters and 37, the chances of you not having this album in your collection are practically nil. In 2004 it was possible to form a band without instruments, without words, without music. Even without band members. All you needed was a name, and that name had to be a single syllable plural, preceded by 'The'. This formula guaranteed success on both sides of the Atlantic and even beneath it, and so it was for The Cocks whose only studio album lasts a mere 27 mindblowing minutes, though this was only slightly shorter than the duration of their career which saw an acrimonious split before the record was even released. Brothers Gary and Owen Frottage later had modest success in Scandinavia with their new outfit, 'The Dicks'.