Visual Cover #05: Album Art in a Modern World
Rammellzee vs. K-Rob’s track “Beat Bop” in its initial pressing of 500, with a cover designed by Jean-Michel Basquiat, is considered a sort of holy grail record for collectors. In terms of cost, it is by far the most expensive hip-hop record one can score. The last auction I saw of it was north of $1,800; even the reissue of the original Tartown pressing is now fetching over $300. There was also a non-cover issue of it on Profile, which sells in the $40-60 range.
Forgetting the costs for the moment, let’s think about the pairing of two iconoclastic figures of downtown culture (neither of whom were MCs), Basquiat and Rammelzee. Although less well-known than Basquiat, Rammellzee has been gaining more attention posthumously, and his variety of work—be it visual, sculptural, performative or musical—is being reconsidered and celebrated.
The record was initially going to be a battle rap between Rammelzee and Basquiat. Rammelzee had been dogging Basquiat as a poser who sold himself to the art world for fame, which was not an uncommon critique at the time. To his credit, Basquiat agreed to pay for the costs and also gave Rammelzee and his MC partner K-Rob creative control. Basquiat’s rhymes were summarily dismissed, and under the guidance of Fab 5 Freddie, and with the help of Basquiat’s pal AL Diaz, K-Rob & Rammelzee made an incredible 10-minute song that is by turns dubby, experimental, psychedelic, and lyrically surreal. The basic beat recalls Wild Style, but the laid-back stream-of-consciousness rhymes, the lack of verse/chorus structure, and its unwieldy length turns it into a theatrical performance that documents the absurdity and risks of New York at the time. A hugely influential track (peep it, Beastie Boys fans), in addition to its worth as a collector’s item, “Beat Bop” is one of the most interesting hip-hop records ever made and a real document of downtown NYC culture.
To this months covers:
SOG Abweichung (Profan)
Wolfgang Voight, a veteran producer of abstract techno, returns here with four minimal tracks. The cover art, by Voight himself, features an impressive series of ellipses and arcs that form this frenetic, pillow-like volume that conjures up Glenn Branca’s drawings and prints. The title “Deviance” couldn’t be more fitting.
Broken English Club, Tzusing, An-i, Amato Cititrax: Tracks Vol. 1 (Cititrax/Minimal Wave)
File this under hard-hitting, minimal techno bangers. The 12″ has a beautiful, matte-printed sleeve with photo overlays of two figures, forming a single image. With such a strong visual cover on the outside, coupled with its blood-red clear vinyl on the inside, Cititrax: Tracks Vol. 1 is the epitome of great package design.
Zoe Zoe “Hoy” (Best Kept Secret)
The cover reminds me of a stylized Keith Haring image, which is to say there’s something Euro and mannered in the lines. This is very different than his stunning, urgent dashes, but it makes for a striking cover reminiscent of some ancient Mayan map reimagined in black and white. The 12″ is a mix of tech-house and pop.
Blue Russell “I Wanna Fly Away” (La Discoteca)
What a delightfully bananas cover on this Italo disco reissue. Done up in an early-’60s, flying ace aesthetic without a trace of irony, the beautiful blonde looking smoking-hot in a jumpsuit and red scarf is begging for the contents to be heard. You have to love the ‘80s, especially that of the Italo ‘80s variety. BTW, the music comes complete with a limited-edition green vinyl.
BWH All Right (House of Music)
Holy Sonny Crocket, these two yellow powerboats bouncing in mid-air looks like a scene straight outta Miami Vice. Yes, the ‘80s are alive, and that goes for the minimal pop-tech sound pallets of that time, as well. Presented with a heavy dose of irony, the only thing missing is a little wicki-wicki-wicki, jam-on-it action. Oh, and it comes in blue vinyl—is September color vinyl month or something?
The Loose Control Band Channel054 (Golf Channel)
San Francisco rave masters Jonah Sharp and DJ Spun enlist skate punk legend Ray Stevens II and Liquid Liquid frontman Sal Principato for some punk, no wave, and industrial techno. Looking as though you’re viewing this through a camera set to record, the cover features a still of some masked marauders on a home invasion or something. Or perhaps they’re just there to wake you up. Who knows, but either way, this is a great project from start to finish. Steve Nishimoto is the man behind the cover design.
Tempelhof & Gigi Masin Hoshi (Remixed) (Hell Yeah)
Like some bizarro new-age album cover, the Gerhard Richter-esque paint daubs add a nice touch to this image of a plowed field. So too does the distorted horizon, the enhanced clouds, and the hand-drawn star slapped front and center—which all seem perfectly appropriate for this LP of distorted Balearica. Gigi Masin is a legend of the ‘70s Italian music scene, and it’s nice to see him back with some new production work.
Elias Rahbani and his Orchestra “Liza…Liza” (Voix de l’orient)
Here’s another reissue for this month’s roundup. A stunning image of a beautiful woman, sweating, topless, oiled, wearing a gold choker—what’s not to love. These were the kind of Euro quasi-disco records of the late ‘70s and ‘80s that have always been so sought-after. If the idea of crazy orchestral disco sleaze piques your interest, you should listen to this release. Also of note: There is some humor in the contrast between the images of the women he has on his covers, and Mr. Rahbani himself.
Eduardo De la Calle Nanoscopic Scales (Hivern Discs)
I am a sucker for covers like this—no graphic or information at all, just a cropped duotone image of a muscle car, sans driver, set in a perfect scaling of the image, invoking a real sense of mystery. Was the image taken from a newspaper photo? A police report? Wherever the image comes from, it only adds to the enigmatic nature of the design, which is just right for this lush techno soundscape.
Enzo Siffredi, Elmar Strathe, Dompe Places (Style Rockets)
This totally reminds me of a bucolic pencil drawing of some old mountain town found on hotel stationary in some small Swiss boutique lodge. What an incongruous image for a techno record, but suggestive and loaded with memory.
