Favourite Album Covers

Hey, gang... today I'd like to talk a bit about album cover artwork, most specifically - my favourites. Of course, there are the universally accepted "best album covers", or most famous, out there. But I may not like all of those, or at least not so much that I'd call them favourites. Like the Dark Side of the Moon album cover.... sure, it's a sort of striking, if simple, image... and naturally, it's famous as hell because of the timeless music on the record itself. But it doesn't grab me in a big way. Same goes for that highly-regarded Velvet Underground one bearing the big yellow banana by Andy Warhol. Really? It's nothing special to me. If I were a musician, I sure wouldn't want a banana on my album cover. Maybe a pineapple or the more exotic starfruit or dragonfruit.

And as much as I like many Beatles album covers, they are over-hyped in my opinion. Sgt Pepper... yep, pretty cool, but not my favourite. Same with Abbey Road. I do like the simplicity of Rubber Soul, and its slightly squished-looking band photo, sort of tying in with the "rubber" aspect of the title. Plus that's the era of the band I like best... a cool shot of them in their early experimental days.

Anyway, on to the album art that I do really like. I'll begin with the ones that are right there off the top of my head:

Destroyer, by Kiss... duh, I love the album, and that cover - whoa! Not only a top Kiss cover, but terrific all-around rock album art. The colourful image of power and fantasy, rock and roll and everything that comes with it. This was painted by noted fantasy artist Ken Kelly. 

Kiss, their self-titled debut... one of the very first records I ever owned, it was the cover art that drew me to it and made me buy it. The high contrast band photo showing their far-out painted faces, some glittery, some scary... the four personas of the musicians. A unique early shock image in music.

Dressed to Kill, by Kiss... okay, you're getting sick of Kiss albums here, aren't you? Last one, I promise. First, that familiar cool and freaky facepaint... but the guys are standing on a NYC street corner dressed in business suits and all manner of strange footwear, including women's shoes! Odd and funny - what a sense of humour.

Heaven and Hell, by Black Sabbath... I guess it's no accident that my favourite album of all time has great artwork. Those massive crunching guitar chords are complemented by the very cool and amusing album cover image of three winged angels smoking and playing cards. It's not highly realistic art, but instead is a sort of flat graphic-looking painting. Artist Lynn Curlee based her painting on a 1928 photo of women dressed as angels smoking backstage at a college pageant. As it turns out, it ties in perfectly with the album title and musical themes, and its play on the light and dark idea is amusing. 

Cultosaurus Erectus, by Blue Oyster Cult... This was the first BOC album I ever owned, and it was that cover art that caught my eye. That painting of a bizarre dinosaur-like monster with multiple eyes against - alien? - snowy peaks raises so many questions. Could this be something on Earth back in prehistoric times? Probably not, so is it of another world? What is that thing, and why does it look so frikkin' amazing? It was painted by British artist Richard Clifton-Dey. Great artwork of one of the strangest beings to grace an album cover. 

Crime of the Century, by Supertramp... a weird and sort of disturbing image of a barred window, a pair of hands gripping the bars, floating against an outer space star-field. And I must confess that I only just now (after owning this album for over forty years) figured out that the band's name on the cover is done like star-points connected by lines the way it is done to show the night sky constellations as vector drawings. Duh! Anyone else get this?

Sad Wings of Destiny, by Judas Priest... first off, it's an amazing fantasy painting of an angel succumbing to the heat and flames of Hell. Then you notice that the angel is wearing a pendant of the Judas Priest logo (the "devil's tuning fork"). The angel's huge feathered wings are twisted and curled in the heat, no longer able to support him. This image was created by illustrator Patrick Woodroffe. Very early Priest. Very metal.

Then there's the 1984 album cover, by Van Halen. It's an image of a little winged cherub (a cupid) sneaking a peek over his shoulder as he holds a cigarette out of plain sight. Margo Nahas was the artist, though this was not commissioned by the band; instead, they chose this existing art from Nahas' portfolio. I think it's a fun cover, naughty in a cheeky Van Halen rock'n'roll sort of way. I even had this framed on my wall for a while.

I could probably go on and on about album covers, but I'll wrap this up here. Maybe I'll revisit the idea in a second instalment. What are your favourite album covers? Post them in the Comments section below. Cheers!

Between The Covers - Part VII

Greetings, fellow housebound readers! In these strange and worrisome times of Coronavirus, it's nice to know there is something safe and comforting you can count on - like the Pop Culture Time Machine. Hopefully, through my ramblings about things culturally fun - if not stimulating - I can entertain you for a little while.

Today, I'll revisit that old Between The Covers series, where I discuss song originals and their covers by other artists.

Ozzy the madman (left) hoists his little guitar wiz-kid Randy to higher notes

Let's kick things off with a really weird one, a song I only recently stumbled upon as I went down yet another Youtube rabbit hole. By that, I mean the cover of a song, not the original. The song is Mr. Crowley, which first appeared on Ozzy Osbourne's debut solo album, Blizzard of Ozz, back in 1980. I was pretty crazy about that album and listened to it plenty. I'll talk about the original by Ozzy first. 

The lyrics tell us the story of the real-life Aleister Crowley, the English occultist who practised black magic back in the late 1800s and early 1900s. Ozzy's interest in the man sparked the idea for the song, and within its lyrics, we learn as much about Crowley's personality as his strange obsessions.

Mr. Crowley, the song, begins with an eerie keyboard intro reminiscent of Phantom of the Opera-type music. The sound emulates the massive pipe organs used in theatres and churches back in the day. Things heavy up with bashing drums, thudding bass, and thick crunchy guitar chords... and Ozzy's distinctive vocal wail. The keyboards continue to add atmospheric accents here and there.

That first guitar solo.... well, it's now considered one of the greatest in all of metal history. Highly innovative and shredding, it's but one of two instrumental breaks... a bit later, we get a slower, more melodic bit that shifts into further fretboard mayhem that becomes the song's outro. Praise late great Randy Rhoads for his guitar wizardry.

The subject matter, dark magic, was perfect for the heavy metal treatment, and between Ozzy's singing style, his dark evocative lyrics, and his all-star band, Mr. Crowley comes out a near-masterpiece. Certainly among my favourites by the Ozz-man.

Fast forward the time machine to 1995, when The Cardigans, a Swedish pop-rock band, released their own version of Mr. Crowley on their album Carnival. Their rendition is something entirely different. It is completely acapella singing - no instruments, very light and soft. And yet there is a slightly sombre and ominous feeling under the surface. This rendition is beautifully sung, so I give credit for The Cardigans making this a well-done cover. I doubt, though, that if this was the one and only version of the song, there would ever have been any buzz around it. Ozzy's original packs far more power and darkness into the song, giving the creepy story the edge it needs.

Next, let's go to The Nile Song, written and performed by Pink Floyd. It was released on the More movie soundtrack in 1969. Early Floyd was far less refined, but did evoke a mood within the song's weirdness. The lyrics are interesting and probably symbolic of something... something I don't quite get, but the music speaks loud and clear. Gritty guitar chords build a wall of sound against the pummeling drums and splashing cymbals. To be honest, it's not among my favourite Floyd songs. Their music usually has meaning on some level, but I was left out in the cold by these nebulous words. Whatever.

A fave band of mine, Voivod, tackled The Nile Song on their 1993 album The Outer Limits. The crisp playing style and recording makes this more of a pleasure to listen to, and singer Snake delivers less noise via his Quebecois-accented English. I enjoy the guitar far more on this version of the song, not far off note-wise, but played with more metal technique and virtuosity. Though it's still not a great song as it was written, I'd give Voivod props for making it a more interesting sonic delivery.

Canadian rockers April Wine take a stab at a prog classic by King Crimson

Then on to another oldie, 21st Century Schizoid Man, by another early British progressive rock band, King Crimson. The song first appeared on the album In the Court of the Crimson King in 1969. I've never been much of a fan of these guys, but this is one of their few compositions that I can enjoy once in a while. The saxophone is a bit strange and even jarring in a "modern" rock setting, but it works well here... sometimes doubling the melody of another instrument. Schizoid Man is a lumbering beast that occasionally takes off into excursions of speedy riffs and solos, time signatures be damned. All over the place, certainly not for everyone.

And the lyrics are obviously crafted with talent, painting pictures of a bizarre and unpleasant world situation - the Vietnam War, to be precise, and commenting on the politicians who ran that conflict. Very visual, and delivered by the strangely electronically altered and muted vocals, it's a bit of an uncomfortable experience... certainly intended and successful on that front.

Long before I ever heard of King Crimson or their original Schizoid song, I heard Canadian rock band April Wine's rendition of the tune. It's pretty faithful to the original, minus the sax, but the twin guitar attack is more than capable of laying down all those wickedly nasty notes. I first heard the track (and many more times later) on regional rock radio stations when I was a teenager. The song appeared on April Wine's album Harder... Faster in 1979. I was always totally into the Wine's take on the Crimson "masterpiece" (as super prog fans would claim), but because the two versions are so close, it's difficult for me to choose between them. April Wine heavies it up a bit, and that's cool, but somehow the old-school prog approach by Crimson seems more appropriate for establishing the odd vibe required to accompany the lyrical political commentary. So maybe King Crimson wins there.

My Martial Arts Movie Collection... In A Nutshell

In these crazy times of unease surrounding the worldwide coronavirus issue, we still need diversions, like entertainment, to take us away from the worry and stress of the everyday, even if it's just for a couple of hours. This is what we humans have done through the ages, at least the ones who got through in one piece. A story, something whimsical or escapist, can ease the pain or the worry for a time.

A Bruce Lee poster from a magazine I owned

when I was a young teen - still got it!

And so today I will continue with my blog, and will take a look at my martial arts movie collection. This genre doesn't hold a large place on my shelves, for I'm not a massive fan of the MA genre, but given my picky tendencies, I feel I've chosen some pretty solid films on home video.

I used to have some early Jackie Chan movies on VHS back in the 90's, but never went beyond that... so no DVDs or Blu-rays of his work now. But I have seen a handful of his later stuff, like his great turn in the Karate (should have read Kung Fu) Kid remake, and the surprisingly good kung fu fantasy The Forbidden Kingdom.

Back in the day, I also had Dragon: The Bruce Lee Story on videotape, but haven't gotten around to upgrading to digital disc yet. Someday... it's a very cool bio-pic from the 90s.

And of course, I've seen loads of other martial arts flicks over the decades (mostly on television, mostly on TBS and their "Movies for Guys Who Like Movies", and some on video rentals way way back), from fighter/actors as varied as Van Damme and Seagal to Speakman and Jet Li to Michelle Yeoh, plus Sonny Chiba, Lundgren, Jim Kelly, Don "The Dragon" Wilson, Dan Inosanto, and the list goes on.

If you're interested in reading about my personal experiences growing up with MA movies and training, check it out here.

Anyway, this is about the martial arts films I have on physical media in my home collection, so here goes:


To begin properly, here are my Bruce Lee movies:

The Big Boss - this kicked (and punched) off the Lee franchise
Fist of Fury
Way of the Dragon
Enter the Dragon - the pinnacle of Lee's film career
Game of Death - Lee only appears briefly (he died during filming) & the result is shoddy at best
Game of Death II - doesn't deserve mention really, as this just uses clips from Lee's earlier films. The man had already been gone from this earth for eight years. Give it a miss.

Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon - Oscar-winning stunner of both cinematic artistry and MA action

Dragon Inn - an exciting 60's Chinese classic... from revered director King Hu

Ip Man - Donnie Yen brings humility and fancy footwork to the role of Bruce Lee's future teacher
Ip Man 2 - more Yen action... still a cool story and packed with chop-socky action
Ip Man 3 - the saga continues... and a fourth instalment is out there (I've seen it) but hasn't made it into my home media collection yet

Ong Bak: The Thai Warrior - Tony Jaa revived the genre with his wild Muay Thai kickboxing
Ong Bak 2: The Beginning - an odd but exciting prequel, and I've seen OB 3 but never bought it

Samurai Jack in cosmic battle with the demon Aku

So that's it for the movies, but I do have a couple of made-for-TV martial arts shows to mention:

Kung Fu - the show that generated even more MA-mania beyond ol' Bruce during the 1970s. Star David Carradine is excellent as the Shaolin monk and kung fu disciple who escapes a death sentence in China, and flees to America's Old West, where he wanders the land, evading bounty hunters. I have only the first season, and I feel that's enough... for now.

Samurai Jack - yes,  it's animated, but it's not really aimed at kids... the episodes are very cinematically stylish, both visually and musically. It's fun though often serious and dramatic, following the time-travelling Samurai on his quest to return to his own time and to defeat the shape-shifting demon Aku. The show is often amusing, yet philosphical, often with wacky opponents and allies in battle. I have the complete series (five seasons) on DVD. Jack is one of my top animated shows of all time, in case you haven't figured that out yet.

My Favourite Songs - Part III

Here we go again, ladies and gents, a few more of my favourite songs of all time. These tunes aren't in any particular order but they do mark key moments in my life, both musical moments and just plain "real life" moments. It seems it's only when I look back on much older songs, ones that truly opened my eyes to new possibilities and lit a fire somewhere inside me, that I realize just how important they are to me.

Styx in action back in the 70's... hated them then, but quite like 'em now

To begin with, Iet's go with Sister Moonshine by Supertramp. Their Crisis? What Crisis? album (released 1975) was among the first batch of records I ever owned as a teenager. I picked that up as a blind buy, no clue about any of the songs on it. But that's the way we did it back in the day - pre-internet. I did have a friend who played me a bit of Supertramp's hit album Even in the Quietest Moments. That made just enough of an impression on me to check out more by this unique and talented band. I couldn't find Quietest Moments in the record store, but the oddball cover of Crisis caught my eye. What the hell, eh? 

Sister Moonshine is track two on the album... and I must say that it's difficult to discuss the song without first saying a little something about track one, Easy Does It. I've said this before here in the Time Machine, but these feel to me like companion songs, and that Easy Does It actually works as an intro to Sister Moonshine. Easy is a soft, slow-shuffle pop tune - a very short one, too, at barely over two minutes - that sets the stage for Moonshine. They really go hand-in-hand the same way that Van Halen's Eruption seems incomplete without its album follow-up You Really Got Me. You know?

So once Easy Does It gently fades out, the uptempo acoustic guitar rhythm of Sister Moonshine fades in and gradually swells in volume. Roger Hodgson's bright yet slightly pained vocals soar over the building band dynamic. Drums, bass and electric guitar kick in and drive this bouncy song, which does some neat tempo tricks here and there.

The song's guitar solo heads into orbit, lush keyboards following its lead, then things kick back into a folksy flute solo, which I can totally dig in this context (not a big fan of flute in rock, normally). The track has a whole lot going on toward its conclusion... lots of fun backing vocals, additional percussion and stringed accents. When I listen to Sister Moonshine, I get a pang of bittersweet nostalgia. I can see myself as a teen, sitting in my basement bedroom back in my parents' house in the late 70's-early 80's, headphones on, basking in what would become my favourite Supertramp song.

For an about face, how about Lady Evil by Black Sabbath? Yep, this is my favourite track on the Heaven and Hell album from 1980. I bought this shortly after it hit the record stores, and I loved that thing from start to finish on my first listen. And it became a regular on my turntable until the day I replaced it with the cassette tape version of the album. Then on CD... then on remastered CD... and more recently, back on vinyl. The circle of life.

As excellent as every song is on Heaven and Hell, it was and still is Lady Evil that kicks my butt the hardest every time. That thundering bass and drums intro, then Iommi's gritty guitar riff, joined by tasty lead licks. And new Sabbath frontman Ronnie James Dio absolutely dominates with his powerful vocals, recounting tales of a dark and unnatural place where a mysterious and feared female lives in seclusion. Nope, Ozzy could never have pulled off this tune.

Van Halen nearing their career peak

Tony Iommi's lead solo squabbles about with a wah/flange sound, long notes segueing into furiously fast picking... it sounds like an incantation, almost word-like, casting a spell. It doesn't really need saying, but how can anyone ignore the driving melodic bassline of Geezer Butler here? His fretwork is the foundation of the song, pounding ominously like a demonic heartbeat just below Iommi's expressive noodling.

There's something about songs about witchy women that intrigues me, not that I'm into the occult or black magic or anything. It's just such a cool subject for a rock song... the mystique and danger were meant for such musical treatment. Storytelling doesn't get much better than this. Lady Evil is definitely high on my list of favourite songs.

Next up is Lorelei by... well, let's call them "art pop-rock" band Styx. I must confess that I didn't much care for Styx back in the day, or for many years after, even. I slightly liked the odd song I heard on the radio, around the school halls, and at parties. Based on what little I knew of them, I was convinced they were just too mainstream-y for me, while I was immersed in the headier music of Rush and Iron Maiden-type artists.

I'm sure I heard Lorelei at some point back in the 70's and early 80's, but I have no memory of it. It wasn't until the early 2000's when I first test-listened and then bought a CD of Styx's greatest hits. And I really liked it. If I had given them half a chance way back when, I think I would have enjoyed a fair number of their songs. At that time, though, it was stuff like Mr. Roboto that turned me off. Anyway, something about Lorelei (and several other similar pop-rockers) clicked with me decades later.

The guitars are just heavy enough to balance out the synth and high vocal harmonies. It's a melodic song above all else, with a hard edge that works well with the pop sensibility therein. Tommy Shaw tears it up on main axe, and I guess that makes up for the wall of vocals that guide the tune to its end. That one issue I have is most apparent on the original recording; on the remastered and I suppose re-mixed 2000's version, it's more appealing. Anyway, Lorelei is catchy beyond belief, having earwormed its way into my brain on more than one occasion.

And finally, a song that I frequently call to mind just to wipe a nasty earworm out of my head... Mean Street by Van Halen. If I must have a tune stuck in my craw, then let it be Mean Street. This a dark, nasty track, is a bit uncharacteristic for the normally party-hearty, good-time fun guys of Van Halen.

I was already full-tilt into the Van Halen discography by the time the album Fair Warning hit the streets in 1981. I loved and played their music constantly, Eddie's guitar prowess blowing me away repeatedly. Fair Warning was no exception, though this was where Ed began to dabble with weird and maybe baffling sythesizer sounds. The bulk of the album is raw and ferocious, though. 

Lead-off track Mean Street sets the stage for the rest of the record, and boy, what a doozy. Eddie's latest guitar techniques are on showcase right from this song's opening notes. I'm no expert on the instrument, but are those tapped notes and harmonics at Mach 5? Ed's tone was finally established and named here... his "brown sound". Diamond David Lee Roth belts out, snarls, and hollers some of the Halen's darkest lyrics ever. Brother Alex lays down a furious set of rhythms on the skins, locking in tight with bassist Mike Anthony's funky grooves. Mike also contributes to the great harmonies, his vocals actually being the most versatile in the band.

Is it just me or does that guitar solo hit way earlier than ever before in a VH song - barely two minutes in? It's a short and punchy - and fast and fiery - set of tasty licks and melodic lines. As wild as Eddie can get, he's also a master of melodic writing and playing. Love that quieter spoken-word section that then surges into Ed's second stinging solo, which acts as an outro to the tune. Whew, almost exhausting, but it's crazy fun in a sort of sick (the bad kind) way. Excellent song off an excellent album by an excellent band line-up (with Roth, not Hagar). Nuff said. 

Cheerio, rock fans.