Most people see the teeming, unsorted pile of LPs at the back of every thrift store and garage sale in the world as something to be avoided.
A tiny few see it as a chance to score some classic rock n' roll for pocket change, or as a potential source of that one killer breakbeat sample no other DJ on Earth will know about.
Vinyl Odditites, on the other hand, sees a comedy goldmine.
On Disco Tex and his Sex-O-Lettes' self-titled LP:
AN LP FROM the only time in human history when you could dress like Truman Capote and, with the addition of some gold jewelry, look like a pimp.
On psychiatrist Dr. Murray Banks' comedy album:
HOW WE PINE for the days when neuroses were cute. During the Fifties and Sixties, comedians mined their petty ticks and anxieties for a comedy motherload. Where you a nervous, stammering Jew with a persecution complex and a problem with women? You were Woody Allen! Were you a milquetoast, overly deferential nobody terrified of authority? You were Bob Newhart!