Worst. Record. Ever.

This week's b3ta question of the week has struck a raw nerve...

Mrs Duck owns Carpenters Gold, a collection of the most heinous crimes against music ever committed to vinyl. Never before or since have so many sugar-coated sentimental and downright irritating "songs" ever been recorded by a bother sister act in foul evening dress.

Days spent listening to this tripe are invaribly followed by evenings of hooting laughter and nights spent, in agony, on the couch. I can't help it. If the inanity of the tunes don't get you, the trite lyrics will, and you're not even halfway through this supposedly heart-felt collection of this easy-listening hell before you are on the floor, rocking and rolling in laughter.

But it's all just a build-up to the big finish, to whit "Calling Occupants of Interplanetary Craft", surely the worst song ever written in the history of modern civilisation (and good grief we're including the collected works of Phil Collins here) with the most unintentionally hilarious lyrics ever dribbled from anus to paper via the studio toilet bowl.

As far as I can tell, the only use this CD has would be to play repeatedly to child murderers and sex offenders by way of brain-melting torture; and even then, the United Nations may have something to say about it.

Aural vomit. That is all.

And just don't get me started on the wedding disco hell of "Love Shack" by the B-52s. There may be deaths.

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