Jagjaguar (2006)

Richard Youngs memorializes the passing of his friend's dog via this album title and those sad, sad little paw prints (the musical content is unrelated, but no less melancholic and beautiful). I believe this originally came out on CD only in the 90s.

This album is so, so good. Oh dear, I'm tearing up!

And with that, I end my run here- looking forward to checking in on the next guest bloggers, for sure.

Siltbreeze (1994)

This is the Strapping Fieldhands' 10" ep "In the Pineys." A real fine little slab from the first golden era of Siltbreeze, the label who put out The Greatest 7" Of All Time (that would be the Shadow Ring's "Tiny Creatures"), and who came back a few years ago and started putting out all kindsa great stuff again.

Strapping Fieldhands apparently said they wanted to steal Skiffle from the British, and I don't know much about that, but I know that their version of Lay Down (Candles in the Rain) is one of the most crazyawesomegood covers ever. Of a Melanie song! How'd they do that?

Wrestler Records (1984)

Ooh, dirty Texas swamp punk. From Austin, but still. A ghostly silver luchador for Wrestler Records- ¡fantástico!

my biggest mistake
my biggest mistake
was when I left you
my biggest mistake
was when I left you in a shallow grave

Tradition (1959)

Another sea shanty record- make that the sea shanty record. Sung with the edge and gusto of real whiskey-soaked sea dogs- which Lloyd, at least, was, working on an Antarctic whaling ship in the 1930’s. Both Lloyd and MacColl acquired their folk song habits in the midst of the Great Depression, and their dissemination of songs of the working people, whether originating from ships or factories, is closely linked to their political beliefs. Both were actively involved with the communist party on a long-term basis.

These days MacColl’s legacy may be most present in the many, many covers of “Dirty Old Town,” which he wrote about his northern England hometown of Salford. The Pogues do kinda own that song with their amazing version so all who assume it's about Dublin are to be forgiven. I've been to Dublin. It is, indeed, dirty. Of course the Pogues were from London. Anyway.

These sea shanties are exciting and bawdy and generally awesome, especially Old Billy Riley which is so fierce and dark in this version that I can imagine Nick Cave singing it. Makes want to take to the sea- or, at least, drink whiskey! The center label seems so simple and well-crafted. The Tradition font is like just about to cross over to the Celtic dark side but instead keeps it together in the beautifully balanced gold/ ruby/ off-white composition. Solid.

Flying Dutchman (1970)

“Friends and Neighbors- Ornette Live at Prince Street” was recorded after Coleman had taken up trumpet and violin in addition to sax (I looooove his violin playing the most, damn) and features Charlie Haden, Dewey Redman and Ed Blackwell. This recording really embodies just a total joy of expression and community vibes, with the titular friends and neighbors providing vocals on the vibrant and soulful first track.

The label design here is so great (the cover is too- how stylin' is Denardo Coleman?). It showcases a rare instance of pastels used for the forces of good, and the concentric circles highlight the tactile depth the label has. Flying Dutchman also put out some records by vocalist Leon Thomas- the dude who yodels on Pharoah Sanders records- that I would really love to pick up.

In general, part of my “collector not completist” attitude is that the music matters more than rarity or whatever (as long as it's on vinyl- is that contradictory?), and it doesn’t bother me that a bunch of my records are re-issues. In this case, I’m definitely glad this lovely original found its way to me, and I think the center label printing is one of the areas that really makes this pressing stand out.

Night-People (2009)

Iowa City-based label Night-People mostly puts out an extremely fine selection of cassettes, but some releases see light on vinyl. The LPs are worth picking up not only for the sweet jams but also for label dude, visual artist and screen-print maestro Shawn Reed’s always excellent handcrafted artwork. This center label for the dreamy Madison, WI duo Peaking Lights’ album “Imaginary Falcons” is a just a teeny tiny taste.

Roulette (1966)

Once I had a dream where I was a really brilliant oud player- like, just wailing. I woke up so jazzed and certain of my musical destiny that I marched on down to Lark in the Morning in San Francisco, took one of them puppies off the wall, and started to play. Now, anyone with sense can predict what happened next (i.e., I merely added to the horrible, horrible racket of Fisherman's Wharf tourists "jamming" tunelessly on mbiras and digeridoos), but sometimes you just gotta follow those dream feelings, man. Anyway: oud. It ain't got no frets. It's hard to play.

You'd never guess how hard when listening to Armenian-American oud virtuoso John Berberian, of course. This record comes before the electrified psychedelic sounds of Middle Eastern Rock, and is more "traditional," but still truly rockin' in the non-genre sense. The Record Fiend blog has a nice post about the contents.

I just picked this up at one of Boulder, Colorado's newest purveyors of LPs, Absolute Vinyl, which is more than making up for the closing of Bart's CD Cellar (Bart himself has a new "Music Shack" that I still need to check out). Feelin' pretty lucky about the vinyl scene here in this little college town- for now, at least! As soon as I saw that Roulette label (a classic, I'm told), I knew I had to share it.

private press (1991?)

"The Manson Family Sings The Songs of Charles Manson"

An LP recorded in 1970 by the family sans the man himself (“Clem” handles the vocals and guitar, aided by reverb-washed Manson-chick backing vocals and “Gypsy” on violin). Really beautiful and chilling stuff, aside from all attendant associations.

This is a white vinyl issue with no label or date information. The etches in the run-out grooves read “YGGDRASSIL FOR NINE DAYS” on the A side and “SCORPIAN BACKWARDS” on side B. There’s a sticker with the date May 29 1991 on the inside of the sleeve of my copy, and I think I'll just run with 1991 as the release year till someone corrects me. The information I do have about the session is from a 1997 double CD, “The Family Jams,” released on the Transparency label; the first CD consists of the recordings that appear on this LP.

I thought the label designs here nicely reflected the enigmatic nature of the LP’s provenance.

Pax (1951)

So I’ve figured out in the course of picking my favorite label designs that the combo of gold or silver ink and matte gem tones gets me every time. A former owner has written the key of the tunes in pencil here, too- I really hope it’s because they were playing along.

Albert Ayler was, of course, highly influenced by New Orleans brass band music. The Eureka Brass Band plays these dirges and stomps in such a raw, immediate, loose and soulful way that it’s easy to draw a connecting line to Ayler’s folk blues free jazz.

Oh man, I love this record, it’s the best (read: least slick) recording of New Orleans funeral music I’ve come across. I just realized that it isn’t clear from the album title or the cover or center label that the titular “Parade” is a funeral procession- maybe the Pax thought it’d be best for sales to bury the music's purpose in the liner notes? Ah well, a funeral parade is what it is- and what a way to go, too.

Apple (1973)

Classic Apple logo+ Yoko face = awesome. This album is one of my absolute all-time faves.

“Astral identity! Wow!” “Something else, right?” “Right!”

ESP-Disk (1973)

The above is not the actual center label art of the record I'm talking about.

Let me explain.

For a while I was picking up sea shanty LPs whenever I came across them. Cover art and overall visual themes of those records are, almost uniformly, obviously nautical, but I originally plucked this LP from the bins of (the recently defunct) Bart’s in Boulder, CO on the basis of cover art which I figured signified psychedelia of some sort. Instead I was happy to have stumbled across more shanty recordings, and on ESP to boot. These versions are rendered by the British folksinger more commonly credited as Louis Killen.

Anyway, the back cover depicts, at 100% size, a pink vinyl LP labeled "Lou Killen- Sea Chanteys" with the above center label art. Why? Cause it does. That art has absolutely nothing to do with the center label art on the actual (non-pink vinyl) LP inside, which is:


Because nothing says "sea shanties" like a giant hand about to grasp an egg floating in the blackness of space.

Locust (2002)

Romance, exoticism, mystery, rose petals: E and F sides of the Sun City Girls' "300,003 Crossdressers from Beyond the Rig Veda." The album's from 1996 but was initially CD only; guess it's seeing vinyl light again at this very moment in some kind of fancy box? Triple LP and worth listening to all the way through; ethnosploitation never sounded so fine.

Sonambient (1979)

A beautiful example of interdisciplinary high modernism (apologies, Clement Greenberg). Harry Bertoia is best known for those chairs at mid-century design stores where the prices sure as shit aren't within my reach- which is just fine, 'cause I like my living spaces a little less than clean and spare. Anyhoo, when he wasn't creating iconic furniture, Bertoia made sculptures, a large series of which utilized materials like clusters of thin metal rods and which would be fantastic works even if they didn't also double as sound devices.

Bertoia recorded hiself "playing" his sculptures, creating expansive washes of metallic sound. He released a series of 10 LPs on his own Sonambient label, all featuring highly unified designs; I think you can see his minimalist aesthetic on clear display here. From "Belissima, Belissima, Belissima/ Nova."

Destiny Records (1972)

Though Mark Toscano is a tough act to follow, I'm excited to be contributing to Alexander's excellent blog.

My initial post is one that fills me with feelings of tenderness and sunshine. It was difficult for me to pick between this Bobby Brown record and "Prayers of a One Man Band." That center label essentially recapitulates the cover art, which is not a particularly creative center label trope, but Brown is such a charming character- on the beach with his golden pageboy, surrounded by his amazing "world music" contraption- that it almost won out.

This label's cosmic line drawing ended up as my pick, however. I think it serves as a lovely visual companion to the ouroboros-like song cycle of birth, awakening, death, and rebirth contained in the grooves.