Cat Collectors' (1983)

The aforementioned Elodie Lauten record. Awesome label name, even better logo, and what might be a fish and a butt (but probably aren't) thrown in for good measure.

99 Records (1981)

99 Records didn't last long (1980-84), but the had a pretty damn good four years: Bush Tetras, Y-Pants, ESG, and Liquid Liquid were all on the roster at one time or another. One of the label's last releases was Glenn Branca's debut long-player, The Ascension. The cleanliness of the label's design belies the dissonance and clamor of the album, a rock-ish hybrid that hints at the massive guitar symphonies Branca would soon endeavor to compose. Side B's 99 logo is pretty nice, but we can't confirm or deny if it's present on all of the label's releases. The A side seems a little drab, if uncluttered and attractive, until one notices the old A/B switcheroo, a little bit of graphic trickery that we can't recall ever seeing on any other labels, surprisingly enough. Also worth checking out is the design on the 7" singles released by Branca's rock bands, The Static and The Theoretical girls. The Ascension is adorned with some really nice Robert Longo cover art, but that will have to be exhibited in some other blog.

Rockin' Horse (1981)

Elodie Lauten is an under-appreciated composer and keyboardist who has done all sorts of exciting things over the years, but this album might be the most unique. An album of new wave songs, Orchestre Modern features not only some great song titles, but a really nice label design, with Rockin' Horse's mascot floating above a warped grid (or maybe it's a net?) in stark black and white. Other early releases of piano work (recently reissued!) were put out on a label with the charming name of Cat Collectors (we think Elodie's own) which feature a handsome little feline who might just grace this blog over the next few days...

Plastic (2008)

An uncharacteristically mellow Burning Star Core record, Challenger is just as remarkable for the art that adorns it as the music that lies in the grooves. Robert Beatty's cover art features a planet hatching some technicolor goo, and the labels mirror the yin and yang of the record, the cold darkness of space and the colorful interstellar pudding that oozes all over it. We're not sure if spaceflight these days involves some sort of astronaut Go-gurt, but I think this record proves that they should. The marketing potential is out of this world!

Cinema Sound, Ltd. (1960s)

Let the marriage of yellow and purple, Cinema Sound, Ltd., and The Cannon Royal Family seduce you...

"International Fashions in Sound is an instant ticket to everywhere, produced exclusively for Cannon Royal Family International Fashions for bed and bath." (Yes...I googled said royal family and the first thing that came up was an upland cotton blanket.)

"The selections in this album provide an unusual feeling of opulence in music. They offer a colorful experience for the listener, taking him on a magic carpet for a brief visit to some of the world's most exotic places."

"This album is not for sale."

White Denim, 2004

Pay Toilets 'Wet & Wild USA/Freedom Rock' LP on opaque milk chocolate vinyl. (Yes, it's the worst brown you can imagine.) You get to pick the title of this LP. I choose Freedom Rock. These boys hail from Pittsburgh, and the Charlie's Angel on the right (Jeff Schreckengost) is the guitarist and designer of this full blast-punk package. Lead singer Jim Lingo is awarded the privilege of bearing the location of two of the most well-placed holes in record label history. John Roman rounds out the trio on drums and in a fabulous fur-lined hood. This is turning into a fashion review. Oh and the fonts...come on... White Denim's logo alone is nice, but...Coke-script? Copyright? Too good to be true.

Moers Music (1983)

This sort of chunky vintage text has gotten a lot of use in recent years, but here's the real McCoy, released in 1983 when, we assume, this look was probably cutting edge. The cover of this lp, a largely forgotten early 80's missive from guitar composer Rhys Chatham, is even more reminiscent of early digital technology, the sort of design that the youth of today seem to go gaga for. Oddly enough, there's not really much of an electronic influence on the music here, but that makes the content of this record a bit more timeless than its label. The text around the outer edge of the label is a nice addition, offering a little bit of order, but even more activity on a crowded canvas.

Metropol (Vielklang), 1989

After dabbling in Die Artze, In Extremo, Yo La Tengo (?!), Nina Hagen, the remix of this novelty song and heaps of German...uh...music, Vielklang (and its subdivision Metropol) is no more. Which is a shame, because this label design is sharp and the shape of the German language only makes it looks better.
But we'll always have this: BERLIN, BERLIN
which plays over and over again at Checkpoint Charlie, seducing us into later locating and purchasing this gem.

M-M-Meine Damen und Herrn, M-M-Meine Damen und Herren, Die Mauer muss Weg!

Balkanton (1981)

We don't know much about this record, but Dobra Savova seems like a nice lady, and her folk songs from Dobrudzha sounds good to our ears. The label (we went for the anglicized version, rather than messing with the Cyrillic characters) was a state-owned enterprise, and, according to Wikipedia, their releases can still be bought in former Soviet countries. Balkanton also released John Lennon, Kate Bush and Yngwie Malmsteen records, but a perusal of their catalog has introduced us to some interesting Bulgarian record covers that may require further research. If the labels consistently look this nice, we'd be happy to add to our Balkanton collection.

Tomato (1976)

We'll dispense with the Magma backstory here; suffice it to say that if you're unfamiliar with their work, it would behoove you to rectify the problem forthwith. The interesting thing here is that a band with such rich (and sometimes garish) imagery gets such a simplistic label treatment. No sign of the killer Magma logo, no alien or futuristic imagery, just a little fruit (though in New Jersey, the tomato is apparently officially considered a vegetable). The label lacks the majesty of “De Futura,” which fills the second side of this record with bombastic swagger, but we love this label all the same. If only all challenging and idiosyncratic music were adorned with a cute little friend come in from the garden...

Shanachie (1985)

A bit of dissonance here, in terms of the stylistic matrimony of music and label design. The Shanachie label design reeks of Americana, with echoes of Currier and Ives in the idyllic little homestead and a cartoonish font that someone's grandfather would probably call “snappy.” That Shanachie featured early releases from Clannad and the Chieftans that may have borne this design seems odd enough, but that the American release of The Indestructible Beat of Soweto bore this label just feels downright weird. Shanachie mixed it up before and after (a platter by Robert Crumb and his Cheap Suit Serenaders sure didn't look like this) but kept things conservative here, emblazoning one of the first domestically available documents of modern South African music with a label that'd be more appropriate on a tin of Christmas cookies.

self-released (2009)

This is from the record for the Brice McClure projection performance "VOUCHSAFE ME MORE SOUNDPICTURE- FAIN MAKE GLORIES", performed at the Walker Arts Center, Minneapolis, on January 15, 2009. McClure is an architect, licensed to practice in New York in 1992. He often writes elaborate notes to go along with his performances that he refers to as "obstructions" to the piece. He marks them all with his "REGISTERED ARCHITECT" stamp. We were more than pleased to open this limited edition record and find that he stamped and initialed the label too. The other side of the label simple says 5/120 in sharpie. We're not sure if all of the records have offset markings or if we lucked out and got the one pressed by a shaky hand.

RRR (1998)

Technically, this was released in 1985 on Fun World, but since only one copy was made, this reissue, put out more than a decade later, was the first time the hoi polloi could get their mitts on this 7”. Miller's label design is charmingly unassuming, and the artifacts of its handmade construction were luckily reproduced here on the RRR reissue. Since the playable content of the record is a collage of surface noise from various other platters, the decidedly lo-tech approach taken on the label seems appropriate. This release seems like a bit of a lark for Miller, who was, at this point, not long removed from the break-up of Mission of Burma. Side B features the same exact label ("This SIDE" included), and, a few bars of Bach carved directly into the vinyl. The evolving aspect of this record is that its existant noise is to be augmented by new imperfections, a la Christian Marclay's Record Without a Cover, as it is (mis)handled and played. We've not the heart to subject this to any undue punishment, however, so our copy has had little chance to evolve.