For the report, these album sleeves are actually horrible

Michael Sumner is the proud proprietor of what have to be probably the most weird assortment of vinyl data within the land. Over the years, this DJ and report salesman has scoured car-boot gross sales, charity shops and second-hand report outlets from Malaysia to Mozambique, from California to Kazakhstan – all in the hunt for the weirdest and wackiest album and single covers he can discover.

The most horrendous of them now characteristic in his new ebook, 101 Terrible Record Sleeves. They embody photographs of ventriloquists’ dolls, a guitar-wielding robotic, boxers within the bathe, frankfurter sausages on the Moon, a cowboy on a rocking-horse, and a dwarf who as soon as acted as an Oompa-Loompa in Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory.

Sumner’s uncommon pastime is a consequence of his day job, which entails searching down high quality second-hand vinyl data he then sells at a store in Ventnor, on the Isle of Wight.

During his rummaging, he commonly comes throughout report sleeves adorned with photographs which are hilarious, impolite, in shockingly dangerous style, or simply downright bizarre.

“If ever I found one that was particularly amusing, I’d buy it, just for a bit of fun,” says this 48-year-old from Shanklin, on the Isle of Wight. “A few of my friends were doing a similar thing, and we found ourselves comparing who had the naffest record sleeves. Then I noticed my collection of bad sleeves was growing.”

Five years in the past, Sumner moved briefly to Eastern Europe, a area he discovered to be a wealthy supply of “naff record sleeves”.

“Particularly Serbia, for some reason,” he provides. “Don’t ask me why.” 12-inch and 7-inch sleeves from the Seventies – earlier than political correctness had taken maintain – supplied him with monumental amusement, too.

In his ebook, a number of musicians from that period have fortunately pictured semi-naked fashions in suggestive poses on the quilt.

“It makes you realise how society and our values have changed,” Sumner explains. “What is acceptable is always moving, always shifting.” He factors out how, in 20 years’ time, even a few of the covers of modern-day data and CDs will look preposterous.

Some of the data he unearthed throughout his travels have been in such dangerous style he felt he wasn’t in a position to embody them in his ebook. On one album recorded by rockers Status Quo, for instance, the picture appeared to glorify home violence. While sure of the demise steel data he discovered featured deeply misogynistic photos.

The homeowners of the outlets and market stalls Summer visited struggled to grasp why he plumped straight for the tacky stuff.

“In Dresden, in Germany, I went to this old boy’s shop, and he was proudly showing me his Led Zeppelin and Jimi Hendrix records,” he remembers. “I said, ‘That’s very nice, but can you show me where your rubbish ones are?’ I was there for hours and pulled out loads of great sleeves. He was baffled as to why I was buying all this junk.

“Then I realised I had to walk across the city to the bus station. So I took all the discs out of their sleeves and gave them back to him. He was even more baffled then.

“I want to send him a copy of my book so he doesn’t think I’m this crazy Englishman.”

With so many horrible data to select from, Sumner struggles to pinpoint his very worst of all. When push involves shove, although, he opts for a 1981 German satirical album, referred to as Leberkäs’ Hawaii, which options satirist Gerhard Polt’s head atop pineapple slices, liver and a few wilted lettuce.

Sumner says: “Among all the others, it really is the most bizarre of all.”