Hello again!
Remember the time you decided to paint a room in your home? You end up choosing two or three patriotically named colors to liven up the room (New England Clam Chowder and Georgia Sunrise for example), you scrub and sand the walls, drop the canvas and newspapers on the floor, mask off the trim, throw a coat or two on, let it dry, then move on to the walls. Everything looks good. You roll up your tarp, hammer the paint cans shut, peel the masking tape off–and then realize that the door to the guest room you painted glowing yellow-orange Georgia Sunrise to match the walls really ought to have been the creamier New England Clam Chowder you used on the trim. You still have enough paint to do it, but you already put away the sandpaper and tarp, and your brushes are still wet from a thorough rinsing. “No one’s going to care,” you think to yourself, but every time you step foot in that room and admire your craftsmanship, that door bugs you. Your artist friends stop by and say something like, “Why didn’t you do the door in Clam Chowder, like the trim? It would really make the room compositionally more sound considering the way the light comes in.” You already know this, and it’s no use telling them that you already put your supplies away. Someday, you think, you’ll get around to fixin’ that door.
This was how I felt last summer when I got to the East Coast and everyone told me that I should have stopped in Athens, Georgia to check out their homemade album covers. I couldn’t backtrack, especially after I had already rolled up my drop cloth and left Atlanta for Baltimore.
Luckily, I had an opportunity to revisit the South and spend a couple of days in Athens, a college town an hour and a half east of Atlanta. I visited a few record stores (pictures of records are on Picasa) and interviewed Mike Turner, the founder of Happy Happy Birthday To Me Records. The “Red Pony Clock” 45 in the record of the day sidebar is on his label. More about Mike Turner and Athens in a future post. One of these days I’ll get out to Portland, Oregon to see their homemade album covers.
This is a roundabout way of reintroducing the blog, talking about painting and the likes, so now on to the real business: a brief update, since nearly a year has passed since the last post.
This past April, I presented my research from summer 2008 at the Undergraduate Research Symposium. I made a display that now sits in Eclipse Records in St. Paul. Please check it out and let me know what you think!
The past month or so I’ve been working on a second UROP grant to dig deeper into the Twin Cities music scene for homemade album covers. Last summer’s project engaged in seeking out homemade album covers over contemporary space by visiting a dozen major cities–this one is about keeping the variable of space constant and exploring through time what these covers mean and have meant to the people who made and collected them. In a future post I will write more specifically about the kinds of things I have been up to my neck in.
Best,
James
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Monday, September 1, 2008
Home Again, Home Again, Jigity Jog
That's right. Anya and I made it back last night after our week-long vacation and a Sissy Hankshaw-inspired thumbing across Wisconsin. Although our puny opposable appendages were no match for the sausage-thumbs of Sissy, I think we did okay, and our technique only improved with time.
If you need to get in touch with me, drop by my folk's house or drop me a line. I got one helluva deal through my service provider and turned in my cell for a touch-tone phone tethered to the wall. It still has the same number, so everyone can get a hold of me, but it makes me immune to turning into a cell-phone wielding citizen-cop!
The polls have closed on the issue of "hand-made or not." Check out the results, though it must be noted that no further analysis can be made that hasn't already been stated, and that there just isn't enough statistical evidence to warrant any conclusive judgments.
So what's next? the ever-faithful blog reader might ask. Good question. For starters, there are tapes to transcribe and I'll pay anyone $10 a tape for the privilege, no, the honor, of reviewing these tapes. When some guy "accidentally" took my bag off the bus from Austin to San Antonio, I wasn't worried about my clothes, my toothbrush, books, or passport–just my precious tapes. I could live with fuzzy teeth for a few days, but not the interviews. Better hurry, because there's never been a better time to hear your's truly sounding like the panting dog of enthusiastic interviewers.
It might be a good idea to listen to all the records I collected, too. I had a brief meeting with my Archivist for the Homemade Album Art Historical Preservation Society last night and she received some, but not all, of the records I scattered to the far reaches of the country. I also plan to start browsing through academic journals and write a piece for them. Why not? There's plenty of other texts to read in preparation as well. Ultimately, a gallery needs to be set up to promote a book. Sean had a great idea to trace the background, influences and process of four specific records in the same way that Michael Pollan might write about potatoes, marijuana, tulips and apples in his book, the Botany of Desire. On the other hand, a 12" coffee table book might just make a quick buck. One thing is for certain though: I have to get a motorcycle. Too many veteran cyclists, coupled with my natural tendency to challenge the status quo that I cannot help , (in this case the saturation of "bikers" infatuated with their pedal-powered cycles) and a few good books made me fall in love with the idea of touring America on a road hog.
Ah, America! The land of opportunity, the land of endless possibilities and innovation; the land of those with vision, with warped perception, with blinders even; the land of The Land Before Time, the land of the landless, the land of the moon landing, the land that is your land, the land that is my land; the land of scenic byways and desert highways, of concrete freeways and fantastical threeways; the land that aches to be romantic and regrets being lustily screwed; the land of tasty dishes and tasteless wishes; the land that exists in Google Maps, in films and flicks and picture frames but mostly in your head; the land that never quits; the land that you keep on discovering in the same way that Chistopher Columbus "discovered" the New World; the land that if let alone may be allowed to thrive in imaginative ways. It's there–it's always been there, and it will always be whatever you want and perceive it to be. I set out to find an America of amazing homemade records and those folks who make, collect and adore them. And that's exactly what I found. Cool.
Signing off,
James
If you need to get in touch with me, drop by my folk's house or drop me a line. I got one helluva deal through my service provider and turned in my cell for a touch-tone phone tethered to the wall. It still has the same number, so everyone can get a hold of me, but it makes me immune to turning into a cell-phone wielding citizen-cop!
The polls have closed on the issue of "hand-made or not." Check out the results, though it must be noted that no further analysis can be made that hasn't already been stated, and that there just isn't enough statistical evidence to warrant any conclusive judgments.
So what's next? the ever-faithful blog reader might ask. Good question. For starters, there are tapes to transcribe and I'll pay anyone $10 a tape for the privilege, no, the honor, of reviewing these tapes. When some guy "accidentally" took my bag off the bus from Austin to San Antonio, I wasn't worried about my clothes, my toothbrush, books, or passport–just my precious tapes. I could live with fuzzy teeth for a few days, but not the interviews. Better hurry, because there's never been a better time to hear your's truly sounding like the panting dog of enthusiastic interviewers.
It might be a good idea to listen to all the records I collected, too. I had a brief meeting with my Archivist for the Homemade Album Art Historical Preservation Society last night and she received some, but not all, of the records I scattered to the far reaches of the country. I also plan to start browsing through academic journals and write a piece for them. Why not? There's plenty of other texts to read in preparation as well. Ultimately, a gallery needs to be set up to promote a book. Sean had a great idea to trace the background, influences and process of four specific records in the same way that Michael Pollan might write about potatoes, marijuana, tulips and apples in his book, the Botany of Desire. On the other hand, a 12" coffee table book might just make a quick buck. One thing is for certain though: I have to get a motorcycle. Too many veteran cyclists, coupled with my natural tendency to challenge the status quo that I cannot help , (in this case the saturation of "bikers" infatuated with their pedal-powered cycles) and a few good books made me fall in love with the idea of touring America on a road hog.
Ah, America! The land of opportunity, the land of endless possibilities and innovation; the land of those with vision, with warped perception, with blinders even; the land of The Land Before Time, the land of the landless, the land of the moon landing, the land that is your land, the land that is my land; the land of scenic byways and desert highways, of concrete freeways and fantastical threeways; the land that aches to be romantic and regrets being lustily screwed; the land of tasty dishes and tasteless wishes; the land that exists in Google Maps, in films and flicks and picture frames but mostly in your head; the land that never quits; the land that you keep on discovering in the same way that Chistopher Columbus "discovered" the New World; the land that if let alone may be allowed to thrive in imaginative ways. It's there–it's always been there, and it will always be whatever you want and perceive it to be. I set out to find an America of amazing homemade records and those folks who make, collect and adore them. And that's exactly what I found. Cool.
Signing off,
James
Saturday, August 23, 2008
Whoo hoo! Kalamazoo!
Here I sit at the Kalamazoo Water Street Coffee Joint biding my time until the train leaves for Chicago while easing back into the wonder-filled world of wireless after escaping to rural America for a few days. Thanks for the comment by anonymous! Maybe it’s August, that month of moving and leaving, visiting and reconnecting, though hot as hell all the way around, that forces one to be vehemently self-critical to elicit any kind of blog response. Anon is has a good point, and to some folk I’ve used the following analogy to illustrate what “homemade” means in the context of record covers. I hope Anon doesn’t mind that I get philosophical as I think about what homemade means and take this analogy a little too far.
Pies, to an extent, are like record covers. And I’m not talking about pizza pies, though pizzas can be made in a factory by machines or entirely homemade. However, pies make a more apt metaphor for record covers because they are known for their artistry as well as content (deliciousness).
Pies can be commercially produced and they can be made from scratch. The interesting part is that just like record covers, there are a million steps between scratch and commercially produced in both instances. Homemade, in the world of pie-making, could mean anything from milking the cows for cream to turn into butter for the crust, milling the flour and picking the berries, etc. to buying ready-made Pillsbury crusts to house the canned cherries. In the same sense, homemade record covers can be made from bug juice drawn on paper made from your neighbor’s tree that you pulverized into pulp, or, from sharpie written on computer paper. The assemblage of commercially-produced materials is just as homemade as the stuff made “from scratch.” Hold on to your butts because I’m about to take this way too far and talk about punk pies.
I think a parallel can be made between the record cover and the pie in terms of the punk philosophy/aesthetic dichotomy as well. The most philosophically punk/DIY pie would be the one that is made from scratch: all ingredients were harvested, collected and processed by the baker, down to the lemons used to tart up those super sweet blueberries. Perhaps the most aesthetically punk pie would be the hobo pie: canned pie filling sandwiched by two pieces of buttered bread grilled between two iron plates baked in an open fire.
Anon also makes the distinction between “the way” things were made and “how [the artist] went about making them.” I hope I am correct in interpreting this as meaning that there is a difference between the method of assembling the pie and how the baker prepared the crust and filling. If not, please correct me. Is it about the process, then, as Anon writes, and not about the particular method or medium that makes something homemade? I'm glad that people are picking up on this distinction, however subtle it is. Keep the discourse coming! And vote! one day left!
Laters, gators,
James
Pies, to an extent, are like record covers. And I’m not talking about pizza pies, though pizzas can be made in a factory by machines or entirely homemade. However, pies make a more apt metaphor for record covers because they are known for their artistry as well as content (deliciousness).
Pies can be commercially produced and they can be made from scratch. The interesting part is that just like record covers, there are a million steps between scratch and commercially produced in both instances. Homemade, in the world of pie-making, could mean anything from milking the cows for cream to turn into butter for the crust, milling the flour and picking the berries, etc. to buying ready-made Pillsbury crusts to house the canned cherries. In the same sense, homemade record covers can be made from bug juice drawn on paper made from your neighbor’s tree that you pulverized into pulp, or, from sharpie written on computer paper. The assemblage of commercially-produced materials is just as homemade as the stuff made “from scratch.” Hold on to your butts because I’m about to take this way too far and talk about punk pies.
I think a parallel can be made between the record cover and the pie in terms of the punk philosophy/aesthetic dichotomy as well. The most philosophically punk/DIY pie would be the one that is made from scratch: all ingredients were harvested, collected and processed by the baker, down to the lemons used to tart up those super sweet blueberries. Perhaps the most aesthetically punk pie would be the hobo pie: canned pie filling sandwiched by two pieces of buttered bread grilled between two iron plates baked in an open fire.
Anon also makes the distinction between “the way” things were made and “how [the artist] went about making them.” I hope I am correct in interpreting this as meaning that there is a difference between the method of assembling the pie and how the baker prepared the crust and filling. If not, please correct me. Is it about the process, then, as Anon writes, and not about the particular method or medium that makes something homemade? I'm glad that people are picking up on this distinction, however subtle it is. Keep the discourse coming! And vote! one day left!
Laters, gators,
James
Sunday, August 17, 2008
Secret Project Robot, NYC, Princeton
Greetings from Eugene V. Deb's house, student co-operative in Ann Arbor, Michigan! For those of you who don't know Mr. Debs, he was the Socialist candidate around the turn of the century who ran for president from the can (not the shitter) four consecutive times. What did they pin him with? Being a Socialist, of course.
Thanks to those who yielded to my pleas to vote on whether specific mediums of record covers are handmade or not. Voting ends in 5 days! I know it seems common practice today, but don't rig the elections!
Thursday I met up with Erik and Rachel, the directors and founders of Secret Project Robot, a gallery space in Brooklyn. It was amazing to see these folk, because last summer they curated "Art of Music: a show of handmade record covers." Right up my alley, eh? Naturally, I've been entertaining the idea of throwing up records on walls to showcase this strange phenomenon. But how to organize them? Any which way would certainly be interesting: chronologically to show how they've changed through time, from shoddy xeroxes (out of necessity) to intensive embroidery (for fetish's sake); geographically to show how certain artists and musicians have direct influence on each other, cultivating a local flavor; by medium, grouping xeroxes with xeroxes and kits with kits; by label; by genre; by artist; and by type (i.e. CD, cassette, 7", 12" other odd sizes). Erik and Rachel, on the other hand, organized the records by collector. Genius!
Rather than soliciting bands, artists, collectors and designers for material, a process that would certainly be exhausting, they solicited their own collections and others'. As keen readers are certainly aware of, collectors can be fetishists as well as hubs for handmade covers. As a hub, they metaphysically represent certain social and artistic circles; as a fetishist they represent perhaps an affinity for a certain aesthetic. Layers, Dear God!
Here's another interesting thing these two pioneers touched on: the devaluing of art brought on by the existence of handmade records. Several people, including Rachel and Erik, mentioned that band members in Brooklyn frequently double as artists, writers, filmmakers and designers. Covers done by band members/artists whose prints sell for thousands of dollars in Chelsea sell for normal record prices. Whoa. Is their record cover not just another one of their prints? As soon as you put a piece of vinyl in it, the value plummets! The parasitic record sucks the value from the art within $10-15 of its life.
Are you with me? Good. The issue of value goes deeper. The two curators agreed with me that usually there isn't much money, if at all, for bands to make on their homemade covers. As mainstream record labels continually co-opt aesthetics and sounds from the folk, they will never release three million hand screen-printed Nickelback records because they wont be able to make any money off it. I'm certainly of the opinion that blogs are not the place to talk trash and knock people, but get real, Chad Kroeger. ooops. By gosh, my delete key ain't workin'–I'll be damned!
Good stuff, good stuff. As for the Princeton Record Exchange, the "largest record store in the East," it was a bust for homemade stuff. There were a few things there, like 2 Avant Garde Jazz records, one of which was part of an edition of record covers made in hotel rooms across the world by Steely Dan's trumpet player. See for yourself–I threw them up on the "more awesome records" link in the sidebar. Check out the Academy Records collection, as there were a few cool ones from the hip part of Brooklyn.
I'm off to my grandparents' house tomorrow for a few days, and I'll be lucky if I have a cell phone signal let alone inter-web. I still have a few things to blog about, so this is not the end, though I'll be home soon. I've been hoarding ideas for mass-produced homemade record covers, so I may post some freebies for those interested in making your own.
Glad to be back up North,
James
P.S. in the words of Diddy, (he's just Diddy now, right?) Vote or Die!
Thanks to those who yielded to my pleas to vote on whether specific mediums of record covers are handmade or not. Voting ends in 5 days! I know it seems common practice today, but don't rig the elections!
Thursday I met up with Erik and Rachel, the directors and founders of Secret Project Robot, a gallery space in Brooklyn. It was amazing to see these folk, because last summer they curated "Art of Music: a show of handmade record covers." Right up my alley, eh? Naturally, I've been entertaining the idea of throwing up records on walls to showcase this strange phenomenon. But how to organize them? Any which way would certainly be interesting: chronologically to show how they've changed through time, from shoddy xeroxes (out of necessity) to intensive embroidery (for fetish's sake); geographically to show how certain artists and musicians have direct influence on each other, cultivating a local flavor; by medium, grouping xeroxes with xeroxes and kits with kits; by label; by genre; by artist; and by type (i.e. CD, cassette, 7", 12" other odd sizes). Erik and Rachel, on the other hand, organized the records by collector. Genius!
Rather than soliciting bands, artists, collectors and designers for material, a process that would certainly be exhausting, they solicited their own collections and others'. As keen readers are certainly aware of, collectors can be fetishists as well as hubs for handmade covers. As a hub, they metaphysically represent certain social and artistic circles; as a fetishist they represent perhaps an affinity for a certain aesthetic. Layers, Dear God!
Here's another interesting thing these two pioneers touched on: the devaluing of art brought on by the existence of handmade records. Several people, including Rachel and Erik, mentioned that band members in Brooklyn frequently double as artists, writers, filmmakers and designers. Covers done by band members/artists whose prints sell for thousands of dollars in Chelsea sell for normal record prices. Whoa. Is their record cover not just another one of their prints? As soon as you put a piece of vinyl in it, the value plummets! The parasitic record sucks the value from the art within $10-15 of its life.
Are you with me? Good. The issue of value goes deeper. The two curators agreed with me that usually there isn't much money, if at all, for bands to make on their homemade covers. As mainstream record labels continually co-opt aesthetics and sounds from the folk, they will never release three million hand screen-printed Nickelback records because they wont be able to make any money off it. I'm certainly of the opinion that blogs are not the place to talk trash and knock people, but get real, Chad Kroeger. ooops. By gosh, my delete key ain't workin'–I'll be damned!
Good stuff, good stuff. As for the Princeton Record Exchange, the "largest record store in the East," it was a bust for homemade stuff. There were a few things there, like 2 Avant Garde Jazz records, one of which was part of an edition of record covers made in hotel rooms across the world by Steely Dan's trumpet player. See for yourself–I threw them up on the "more awesome records" link in the sidebar. Check out the Academy Records collection, as there were a few cool ones from the hip part of Brooklyn.
I'm off to my grandparents' house tomorrow for a few days, and I'll be lucky if I have a cell phone signal let alone inter-web. I still have a few things to blog about, so this is not the end, though I'll be home soon. I've been hoarding ideas for mass-produced homemade record covers, so I may post some freebies for those interested in making your own.
Glad to be back up North,
James
P.S. in the words of Diddy, (he's just Diddy now, right?) Vote or Die!
Friday, August 15, 2008
Homemade or Not?
So hold the phone for a second. What exactly does this "researcher" mean by homemade? How does he get to choose what's homemade and what's not? After all, he's taking the photos of records, and supposedly, only the records he photographs are homemade. What if he misses something, or he deliberately leaves something out? He's never really gone into the Latin or Traditional Eastern European Polka sections in every store. What if there's a whole subculture of Polka nerds who feel like a limited edition of 300 homemade album covers made out of their late grandma's skirts would serve as the perfect visual complement to the auditory waltz?
Perhaps his methodology is flawed. Maybe he's lazy. There are homemade Avant Garde jazz records out there in the Jazz sections of record stores, believe it or not, but he doesn't talk about those. Why doesn't he comb through those cases of records like he does with the experimental and punk sections? He's probably missing some crucial local free jazz scene that is on the brink of blowing everyone's mind.
And what's with being selective about what records he actually trades for or –God forbid– purchases, and sends to people for his Homemade Album Art Historical Preservation Society, a mouthful which he refuses to turn into a a bite-size acronym? Is he turning into a fetishist himself? Maybe he has a set of his own aesthetics that he loves to entertain with scantily clad record jackets.
But really, let's not forget about this first question: what does the researcher mean by homemade? It really seems as though the homemade has to be something that's mass-produced, according to his undefined definition. But what of those DJ "white labels" (that usually just consist of putting a label on the vinyl or writing on it in sharpie), bootlegs and inkjet printed covers? So many of those "Punk" records he describes embody the punk aesthetic, but isn't inkjet printer art, done by some dude who recorded onto his laptop, burned CDs and printed the covers done in Microsoft Paint on his Canon 5200, embodying the punk philosophy the most? Is THAT homemade? Why aren't those covers, deserving a medal signed by Iggy Pop, featured in the Record of the Day sidebar?
Here's what we'll do in light of the researcher's pathetic attempts to include his readers: scrap that Record of the Day crap for a day and take a poll. It's a little sketchy, (but not methodologically sketchy like political polls are) since the blog's "gadgets" don't allow true/false yes/no answers, so you'll have to answer to each of the four categories. He's good with math–he'll figure out what the stats mean later. For now, do the poll and we'll find out what the rest of us think.
Perhaps his methodology is flawed. Maybe he's lazy. There are homemade Avant Garde jazz records out there in the Jazz sections of record stores, believe it or not, but he doesn't talk about those. Why doesn't he comb through those cases of records like he does with the experimental and punk sections? He's probably missing some crucial local free jazz scene that is on the brink of blowing everyone's mind.
And what's with being selective about what records he actually trades for or –God forbid– purchases, and sends to people for his Homemade Album Art Historical Preservation Society, a mouthful which he refuses to turn into a a bite-size acronym? Is he turning into a fetishist himself? Maybe he has a set of his own aesthetics that he loves to entertain with scantily clad record jackets.
But really, let's not forget about this first question: what does the researcher mean by homemade? It really seems as though the homemade has to be something that's mass-produced, according to his undefined definition. But what of those DJ "white labels" (that usually just consist of putting a label on the vinyl or writing on it in sharpie), bootlegs and inkjet printed covers? So many of those "Punk" records he describes embody the punk aesthetic, but isn't inkjet printer art, done by some dude who recorded onto his laptop, burned CDs and printed the covers done in Microsoft Paint on his Canon 5200, embodying the punk philosophy the most? Is THAT homemade? Why aren't those covers, deserving a medal signed by Iggy Pop, featured in the Record of the Day sidebar?
Here's what we'll do in light of the researcher's pathetic attempts to include his readers: scrap that Record of the Day crap for a day and take a poll. It's a little sketchy, (but not methodologically sketchy like political polls are) since the blog's "gadgets" don't allow true/false yes/no answers, so you'll have to answer to each of the four categories. He's good with math–he'll figure out what the stats mean later. For now, do the poll and we'll find out what the rest of us think.
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
NYC, Babies!
I've finally made it to the city of infinite loonihood. Here's where I'm supposed to say something like, "well, not all of New York is like Manhattan," but last summer I discovered the insanity of living in a place like this, and I continue to stand by my opinion: you have to be bat-shit-crazy to revel in this kind of cool and efficient environment. Don't get me wrong–I don't wish to fall into "the city is evil" trap nor consign "bat-shit-crazy" to the Nike Store of qualifiers–this place fills me with wonder and awe at its inhabitants.
With that said, I'm going to briefly summarize some finding from 6 record stores yesterday. Well, more like three, because one had disappeared off the face of the earth completely, and two were closed. So I went to three and found some awesome stuff. It's interesting that stores don't have a "punk/indie/hardcore" section like most Westcoast and Southern cities do–it's all "indy" or "70s/80s/90s Rock." Found some cool looking experimental/noise stuff and a hand-collaged album cover coated in Mod-Podge. Effing sweet.
But seriously: in the Village there are record stores every two blocks. I have at least a dozen to go to in Manhattan and another God-knows-how-many in Brooklyn. We'll see about those other boroughs.
On tap: talking with Secret Project Robot folks, a day trip to the Princeton Record Exchange (boasting 150,000 volumes), a collector, and more record stores. There's plenty more blog to suck down in the next week, so don't go filling up those heads of yours with other lite bloggical nonsense.
I posted some findings last night. They're under "more awesome record covers" in the Tasty Links sidebar, as always.
Stay cool, daddies
James
With that said, I'm going to briefly summarize some finding from 6 record stores yesterday. Well, more like three, because one had disappeared off the face of the earth completely, and two were closed. So I went to three and found some awesome stuff. It's interesting that stores don't have a "punk/indie/hardcore" section like most Westcoast and Southern cities do–it's all "indy" or "70s/80s/90s Rock." Found some cool looking experimental/noise stuff and a hand-collaged album cover coated in Mod-Podge. Effing sweet.
But seriously: in the Village there are record stores every two blocks. I have at least a dozen to go to in Manhattan and another God-knows-how-many in Brooklyn. We'll see about those other boroughs.
On tap: talking with Secret Project Robot folks, a day trip to the Princeton Record Exchange (boasting 150,000 volumes), a collector, and more record stores. There's plenty more blog to suck down in the next week, so don't go filling up those heads of yours with other lite bloggical nonsense.
I posted some findings last night. They're under "more awesome record covers" in the Tasty Links sidebar, as always.
Stay cool, daddies
James
Saturday, August 9, 2008
Atlanta
One of the reasons for going to Atlanta was to test one of my many hypotheses. Although I didn't get to test it fully as I had other business to attend to in this green Georgian city, (and by 'green' I don't mean the buzzword to get folks to become environmentally conscious or hybridize their cars and washing machines–on the contrary, I mean it has a lot of trees) I got a whiff of some stale creative air.
Here's my hypothesis: Speaking broadly, if DIY Punks, striving for an "underground" sound and scene make homemade covers that demonstrate a network of people involved in the process, would it follow that Hip Hop artists would produce a similar thing, i.e. homemade record covers? Since I'm not involved with that scene, I figured that Atlanta would be a good place to start, as it's known as a mecca for that kind of music.
Here's what a cursory investigation found out: (very cursory, mind you, but I thought I would share some observations anyway)
The major Atlanta Hip Hop record store, Ear Wax, shut down recently. A record store closing is never a good indicator of a lively scene to begin with. After going to a few stores, I found a some cool homemade covers; most of it found in the local, indie and punk sections and most of it from Athens, Georgia, I might add.
Then I went to Moods Music, specializing in Acid Jazz and Soul and asked the attendant, Dave (who has been a working DJ for the last 12 years) if the store had any homemade items. He pointed me to a cover of a local singer, Stacy Epps, who, for a promotional CD pasted a commercially printed cover on a brown card stock CD case. It was the closest thing to anything homemade, and Dave lamented the sorry state of music and creativity in the homemade realm of Soul and Hip Hop. He said that everyone was just trying to make a quick buck off their material and didn't have time to do anything super creative and involved. Rachel, my couchsurfing host and native Atlantan, commented on my findings and Dave's opinions, saying that many artists are trying really hard to "make it" in Atlanta, contrasting the "anti-marketing marketing" Mike Wisti spoke of last fall. Dave also commented on digital music on iPods and cell phones making it possible for people to listen to music and just go about their business. No longer is listening to music and reading the liner notes an activity by itself–something for your soul, he said.
Like I said, this was a cursory investigation, but a much needed one nevertheless. I may need some time to mull it over, but I feel some good follow-ups are necessary–just like how I felt after the first time I visited a record store with the intent to photograph records in Minneapolis last fall, which is to say a barrage of questions and curiosities have assaulted my brain! You know, its like when you go to Wikipedia for an informational interview on "UFOs" and you to leave its cyberspace office with a desire to track down and interview some folks who claim to have had extraterrestrial encounters.
Anyway, I uploaded some more photos from Atlanta and got into Baltimore this morning to witness the decked-out folk going to the Anime Convention. I would have attended the Masquerade Ball, but registration is at least $100, so "balls." There's always the Visionary Art Museum! I asked some costumed Anime-heads to pose for some photos, so check out the Picasa link!
Peaces,
James
Here's my hypothesis: Speaking broadly, if DIY Punks, striving for an "underground" sound and scene make homemade covers that demonstrate a network of people involved in the process, would it follow that Hip Hop artists would produce a similar thing, i.e. homemade record covers? Since I'm not involved with that scene, I figured that Atlanta would be a good place to start, as it's known as a mecca for that kind of music.
Here's what a cursory investigation found out: (very cursory, mind you, but I thought I would share some observations anyway)
The major Atlanta Hip Hop record store, Ear Wax, shut down recently. A record store closing is never a good indicator of a lively scene to begin with. After going to a few stores, I found a some cool homemade covers; most of it found in the local, indie and punk sections and most of it from Athens, Georgia, I might add.
Then I went to Moods Music, specializing in Acid Jazz and Soul and asked the attendant, Dave (who has been a working DJ for the last 12 years) if the store had any homemade items. He pointed me to a cover of a local singer, Stacy Epps, who, for a promotional CD pasted a commercially printed cover on a brown card stock CD case. It was the closest thing to anything homemade, and Dave lamented the sorry state of music and creativity in the homemade realm of Soul and Hip Hop. He said that everyone was just trying to make a quick buck off their material and didn't have time to do anything super creative and involved. Rachel, my couchsurfing host and native Atlantan, commented on my findings and Dave's opinions, saying that many artists are trying really hard to "make it" in Atlanta, contrasting the "anti-marketing marketing" Mike Wisti spoke of last fall. Dave also commented on digital music on iPods and cell phones making it possible for people to listen to music and just go about their business. No longer is listening to music and reading the liner notes an activity by itself–something for your soul, he said.
Like I said, this was a cursory investigation, but a much needed one nevertheless. I may need some time to mull it over, but I feel some good follow-ups are necessary–just like how I felt after the first time I visited a record store with the intent to photograph records in Minneapolis last fall, which is to say a barrage of questions and curiosities have assaulted my brain! You know, its like when you go to Wikipedia for an informational interview on "UFOs" and you to leave its cyberspace office with a desire to track down and interview some folks who claim to have had extraterrestrial encounters.
Anyway, I uploaded some more photos from Atlanta and got into Baltimore this morning to witness the decked-out folk going to the Anime Convention. I would have attended the Masquerade Ball, but registration is at least $100, so "balls." There's always the Visionary Art Museum! I asked some costumed Anime-heads to pose for some photos, so check out the Picasa link!
Peaces,
James
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