Houghton Mifflin (1962)

Odyssey (1965)

Owl (1966)

I don't know anything about Owl except that they were in Boulder and put out Tod Dockstader records. However the Dockstader stuff I have from them is absolutely, positively, without a doubt, the best avant-garde tape/electronic music I know of. This album has him working with a soundtrack composer and orchestra. The liner notes explain that he composed little passages using a synthesizer and tape loops, and then had the composer work them into a score and record it with an orchestra. Then Dockstader took the taped recordings and went to town with a razorblade and splicer. It's not even his best work, but it puts most every electronic "remix" of live recordings to shame.

The owl on the label looks simultaneously calm (left eye) and completely in shock (right eye) in regard to the sonic insanity in the groove that surrounds him.

Pelican (1976)

Angel (1966)

LHI (1969)

Monument (1965)

DRG (1982)

Columbia Record Club (1967)

Enterprise (1968)

Enterprise (1969)

This copy of Hot Buttered Soul is pretty banged up, but the Enterprise font and logo is nice. Enterprise was part of Stax Records that released Isaac Hayes-related albums.

Pickwick (1978)

Decca (1971)

This is such a nice design. A+ work, Decca!

This album is a lame football-themed comedy record. The "David A. Axelrod" credit jumped out at me when I came across it in a record store in DC. I knew he had a couple of records on Decca, but had never heard of this one before. Everything on the A side and most of the B side are garbage, silly football banter. But when you hit the last cut, "Run for Daylight," it's a groovy Axe jam. The vocals are a bit awkward and the whole thing has a slightly under-rehearsed feel, but the classic Axelrod production hits hard. It even has a short open drum and vocal break. If you have ever wished that your interests in football and David Axelrod could come together, this track is for you.

Chess (1972)

This later Chess label makes me think of Lion-O from Thundercats.

Cadet (1968)

Chess/Checker/Cadet is one of my favorite labels, but I think that the design of this label could be a lot cooler than it is. The horse head logo is so classic, but it seems under-appreciated here. Basically, I want a label that has the horse logo printed to fill the entire thing, white on navy blue. And if I REALLY had my way, there wouldn't even be any text on one side, like the Vertigo label. Just that logo, printed large and crisp, spinning around. Now you're talkin!

This Ramsey Lewis album is one of my most favorite records. There's few albums I pull out to listen to as often as this one. All Beatles covers, but Ramsey OWNS each track. Instrumental versions of tunes you know, via Ramsey's soulful piano and an orchestra, plus spaced-out Moog effects and tight funk drums.

Actually, I think I'm going to put this on right now...

GRT (1970)

GRT (General Recorded Tape) bought Cadet in 1969, which meant they got to put out all of the Chicago talent on this classic soul album - Minnie Riperton, Ramsey Lewis, Charles Stepney, Phil Upchurch, Maurice White. As much as the classic Cadet logo and design has my heart, I have to admit that I also really dig the businesslike GRT logo.

Charles Stepney is one of my favorites. This album carries forward a noticeable soft-psych pop vibe from the Riperton's previous band, The Rotary Connection, but with a strong soul flavor. Overall it's a really satisfying listen, but it veers into moments of saccharine indulgence that I suspect inadvertently capture what was going on culturally at the time. Take for example the opening track Les Fleurs. The opening bars are understated, groovy and downright sublime. The first time I heard those opening 10 seconds of this album, I thought it might be the best piece of music I ever heard. Minnie's famous voice is impressive, but by the time it hits the first crescendo at about 1:30, I'm reaching for the volume knob. Whoa! Let's cool out a minute. The track pulls itself together with a catchy "la-la-la" ending that always sticks in my head. I think this track pretty well sums up what's going on with the big picture of the album. Killer talent, amazing moments of arranging and musicianship, but a nagging feeling that ambition is getting the best of the whole exercise. This is 1970, the 60's are over.

"The 80's will trash the 70's for garbaging the 60's." - Ed Sanders, Fame and Love in New York

Groove Merchant (1973)

This Groove Merchant label has several notable elements: the nice overall layout; the cool circular Groove Merchant logo; and, the fact that this label says "Two Giant Organs Come Together." Yikes. (On the sleeve, the title is, "Giants of the Organ Come Together," which is somewhat less obscene.)

Blue Note (1969)

A later Blue Note style. I think the curved text looks great on here.

Hannibal (1981)

Reprise (1966)

Nice colors and great smoke on the classic Reprise label.

Prophesy (1972)

I'm a fan of the crisp silhouette and color scheme on this label. Reminds me of the cutout style of The Adventures of Prince Achmed.

My initial assumption was that Prophesy was on some kind of religious thing. Later, I saw that in addition to this Quincy Jones LP (which has a couple of nice samples on it) Prophesy also released an Amon Duul record. Seems pretty secular to me. Cool name though.

Charisma (1972)

"The Famous Charisma Label" has a great Alice In Wonderland theme. I noticed that this is the second Lord of the Rings related label I have posted, but I don't want to give the impression that I'm a Middle Earth enthusiast. This Bo Hansson record is a really good instrumental album with an eerie jazzy/proggy psych style. I think it's less rare than I imagine it is; I actually see the record fairly often, but every time I do I feel like I should buy it.

Virgin (1974)

Here's a really excellent label. Wow!

Vertigo (1974)

Vertigo label from a few years later. It seems telling to compare the bug-out psychedelic Vertigo label in the very early 70's with the more restrained sci-fi fantasy illustration style here. This could probably be used as key supporting evidence for some sort of a PhD thesis about what happened to psychedelic culture in the 70's.

Vertigo (1971)

This fantastic label seems to be based on Marcel Duchamp's Rotoreliefs, which are a set of circular designs that produce an effect of depth when rotated. Check out the Vertigo label in action here. Duchamp suggests viewing with one eye closed for best results.

I read something that called Vertigo the Blue Note of 70's rock, which I this is a great analogy. Even the weak stuff they put out is pretty good.

This design just knocks my socks off!

SSS (1971)

The banded colors on this label make me think of Oskar Fischinger's animated cutout abstractions, like Composition in Blue. The music is sassy rock interpretations of Beethoven with a couple of nice drum breaks along the way. If only Fischinger had been animating in the early 70's, he could have used this bitchin' stuff instead of boring ol' Bach.

Uni (1971)

"Lucifer" is one of the recording names of Mort Garson, the freaked-out psych Moog maestro responsible for Electronic Hair Pieces, which are Moog interpretations of the musical Hair; The Wozard of Iz, which is a bizarre take on the Wizard of Oz along the lines of Bruce Haack's Electric Lucifer; and the amazing Plantasia, which is supposed to help your plants grow. Probably the best of all of his records, though, is The Zodiac: Cosmic Sounds album he did on Electra. All of his stuff is great.

Volt (1972)

Volt was part of Stax Records, and put out Otis Redding's music. The Bar-Kays are on a kind of groovin instrumental soul-rock flavor. They were Redding's backing band, sort of the other Stax house band besides Booker T. This is the second incarnation of the band.

Verve (1967)

Classic Verve label. For some reason, these seem to be printed off-center fairly often. At least the ones I have. This Gil Melle record claims in the liner notes to be the first "electronic jazz" album, with synthesizers and stuff.

Turnabout (1965)

Turnabout was sort of the "budget" avant-garde label. You can usually find loads of Turnabout LPs on eBay for cheap. I like that they put out a handful of pieces by Ilhan Mimaroglu, and this Berio side is a very freaked out listen.

That aside, the design of the label is so solid. It's got exactly the right aesthetic for the avant-garde compositions they released.

Kent (1973)

Limelight (1968)

Caedmon (1967)

Great colors. This label makes me think of the split-image focus thing in the viewfinder of classic SLRs.

Roulette (1969)

Takoma (1976)

Label founded by John Fahey. I have seen a few variations of this label design, but I like this one with the leaves at the bottom the best. This is one of three records that Joe Byrd, (United States of America, Joe Byrd and the Field Hippies) did on Takoma, and is moog versions of patriotic standards.

As a Fahey-related aside, I highly recommend reading his book How Bluegrass Music Destroyed My Life, which is some combination of an autobiography and a hallucination.

Sun (1966)

The classic Sun label is one of my all-time favorites.

Once I Got An Amazing One I Liked Them A Lot

I recently read an interview with the comics artist Jerry Moriarty in the November/December 2009 issue of The Believer. In this interview he discusses collecting. He says, "I am a collector by nature and learn the most I can just through the act of collecting." Then he says, "I am not a completist. I don't want a complete collection of anything. Every collection ends and a new one begins."

This seems like a really great way to think about collections.

Jerry also says, "In the last few years I have collected Hawaiian shirts. I am not a social guy, so I only get to wear them to the supermarket. I liked them slowly at first and once I got an amazing one I liked them a lot."

I think that about covers it.

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I have also recently been reading interviews with Harry Smith, who is probably the Patron Saint of Collectors. On the subject of his collections, Harry says, "The reason for looking at objects is to perfect the self. It's a kind of selfish thing."

He also says, "Like at the present time I'm interested in sorting records, because I think that music has like some kind of powers to it that would be interesting to explore, and I've already done this. I've made a large collection of records."

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When I was thinking about my own collections of stuff, I realized that the path of the Completist leads mostly to frustration. Because really, who can compete with Harry Smith? Being a Completist has an edge of competition to it, with an underlying flavor of desperation (see the clip above, from Alan Zweig's 2000 movie Vinyl.)

I like to think that being a Collector is more about appreciation than competition. And then, the key question for a Collector is, can you share something that you appreciate about something you collect, with someone who doesn't collect what you collect, in a way that isn't self-congratulatory?

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This blog highlights interesting record-label designs.

The goal is to share well-designed, quirky, and/or beautiful labels. These are original scans of labels I like from my collection, posted on a daily basis. The audio contents of the records are less important than the images on them, although commentary about the artists or genres or labels will surely have a place here. Some records may be rare or obscure, but most will be relatively common. The only criteria is the visual design.

I would like to use this blog as a collaborative forum with other collectors who will post interesting labels from their own collections.

I really like looking at the designs of these labels for several reasons. First, I have a general, if untrained, appreciation for graphic design from the 50's-70's. Second, I'm interested in the fact that, unlike the cover-art of records, these are designs that are not meant to sell records. Third, I like that these labels are associated with the visual culture of recorded music, but they don't bear the responsibility of communicating anything about the actual music. They are designs that reflect the flavor and self-image of the record label, not the band. They show up on dozens, if not hundreds, of different bands' albums. That's a really interesting task for a designer. And lastly, I appreciate that these labels are actually what I'm looking at when I am hearing a record for the first time, and what I'm looking at every time I put my favorite records on the turntable.