Walk into any record shop these days to pick up the latest single by a band and chances are you'll be presented with the choice of maybe two or three different configurations of songs spread over a series of CDs. If you're lucky you might get a poster included that's been folded so many times in order to fit it into the CD case that the chances of it ever serving it's true purpose are slimmer than getting a word in edgeways with David Lee Roth. If you're really lucky, maybe you'll get a couple of miniature postcards, a Lilliputian calendar or some faux-Polaroids tucked into the jewel case.
Very occasionally you'll get a vinyl release to accompany the CD(s), but usually only in the case of up and coming indie bands that no-one has heard of yet, and quite probably never will (but for those few that do, the early fans can forever smugly ask "do you have the seven inch vinyl of so-and-so? No? Shame, I've got ten copies myself"). Even then the packaging will undoubtedly be plain and uninspiring, or in the case of dance music twelve inch vinyl releases, it's standard fare to get a plain white card sleeve with a sticker advertising the artist and track name and very little else. True, it does the job, but there's not the sense of excitement that there once was when a new single was released.
Back in the days before CDs (inconceivable to some of you, no doubt) there was much more creativity and imagination involved in the release of a new single, particularly in the rock music arena which I grew up in, where almost literally anything was possible. The advent of a new single wasn't just about what it would sound like, it was also about what it would look like, or what it would come packaged in.
There were, of course, your fairly standard seven and twelve inch picture bags, the next step up from which was the gatefold sleeve. Poison's Nothin' But A Good Time came in a particularly eye-catching lime green gatefold sleeve adorned with day-glo pictures of the chicks-with-dicks themselves. Great song, garish cover, but this was the realm of the hair band and gimmicks like this did sell additional copies of the singles. I regularly bought all of the limited editions of many a rock band, not with thoughts that they may one day become valuable and provide me with a nice little nest egg (a good job too, as it turns out), but for the sheer joy of having all these unusual releases.
Poster bags were another popular format, not only enticing us to buy additional copies of the single, but also giving us the means to plaster our walls with spandex-clad long-haired mascara-wearing men. Nice.
Picture discs offered a wide range of possibilities, and the marketing departments didn't disappoint. There were of course just the bog standard picture discs in seven or twelve inch format (or both occasionally) that would replicate the regular edition's artwork, some of which were particularly effective, like Iron Maiden's awesome artwork for Aces High, which gave you the opportunity to have twelve inches of Maiden mascot Eddie's face revolving forty five times a minute on your record player.
The Dog's D'Amour went one step further than this, combining the best of both worlds by having a gatefold sleeve into which the twelve inch pictures discs for their Satellite Kid and Trail Of Tears singles could be slotted. What made this stand out, however, was that each of the singles had a Tyla-drawn cartoon which when placed correctly into the gatefold sleeve enabled you to read the whole story.
One of the more interesting examples of the shaped picture disc was WASP's PMRC-baiting Animal (Fuck Like A Beast) which was cut into the shape of the bloodied buzz-saw codpiece modelled by Blackie Lawless on the cover of
the regular twelve inch. Guns'N'Roses had one of the best for my money, though. Their Paradise City release came as an eleven inch disc in the shape of a gun, complete with its' own holster shaped sleeve. A gold star to the bright spark who thought that one up.
Coloured vinyl was an occasional temptation, usually in some garish shade of green or pink (I'm looking at you again, Poison), although Bon Jovi managed to come across all patriotic for their Lay Your Hands On Me release which was available on no less than three separate seven inch coloured vinyls in red, white and blue. For good measure (and to ensure that my wallet was thoroughly cleaned out) they also released it on a shaped picture disc.
Other one-off novelties of the time included The Cult's Sun King which was housed in a black PVC hologram sleeve, and M's Pop Music which had a double groove meaning that when you dropped your needle onto the vinyl you never knew which of the two songs on it you were going to get, but the award for the most original and outrageous format of all time goes to Bay Area thrashers Vio-lence.
The band, known for their aggressive marketing, came up with the ultimate in offensive packaging, even managing to get the format banned from some record shops, when they decided to release their Eternal Nightmare single in a special 'vomit pack'. This was a clear plastic sleeve filled with vomit (actually vegetable soup and vinegar, but it still gave off enough of a vile aroma to induce the genuine article if you got too close, especially on hot days) into which the single could be inserted. Sadly for the band it did little to raise their profile, but it did guarantee them a place in the history of music marketing.
Sadly the days of interesting formats seem to have gone the way of 8-tracks, cassette singles and Michael Jackson's career, but consider this. With record companies having finally embraced the download market for singles, we may in a few years be mourning the loss of even the bland CD single format.
Very occasionally you'll get a vinyl release to accompany the CD(s), but usually only in the case of up and coming indie bands that no-one has heard of yet, and quite probably never will (but for those few that do, the early fans can forever smugly ask "do you have the seven inch vinyl of so-and-so? No? Shame, I've got ten copies myself"). Even then the packaging will undoubtedly be plain and uninspiring, or in the case of dance music twelve inch vinyl releases, it's standard fare to get a plain white card sleeve with a sticker advertising the artist and track name and very little else. True, it does the job, but there's not the sense of excitement that there once was when a new single was released.
Back in the days before CDs (inconceivable to some of you, no doubt) there was much more creativity and imagination involved in the release of a new single, particularly in the rock music arena which I grew up in, where almost literally anything was possible. The advent of a new single wasn't just about what it would sound like, it was also about what it would look like, or what it would come packaged in.
There were, of course, your fairly standard seven and twelve inch picture bags, the next step up from which was the gatefold sleeve. Poison's Nothin' But A Good Time came in a particularly eye-catching lime green gatefold sleeve adorned with day-glo pictures of the chicks-with-dicks themselves. Great song, garish cover, but this was the realm of the hair band and gimmicks like this did sell additional copies of the singles. I regularly bought all of the limited editions of many a rock band, not with thoughts that they may one day become valuable and provide me with a nice little nest egg (a good job too, as it turns out), but for the sheer joy of having all these unusual releases.
Poster bags were another popular format, not only enticing us to buy additional copies of the single, but also giving us the means to plaster our walls with spandex-clad long-haired mascara-wearing men. Nice.
Picture discs offered a wide range of possibilities, and the marketing departments didn't disappoint. There were of course just the bog standard picture discs in seven or twelve inch format (or both occasionally) that would replicate the regular edition's artwork, some of which were particularly effective, like Iron Maiden's awesome artwork for Aces High, which gave you the opportunity to have twelve inches of Maiden mascot Eddie's face revolving forty five times a minute on your record player.
The Dog's D'Amour went one step further than this, combining the best of both worlds by having a gatefold sleeve into which the twelve inch pictures discs for their Satellite Kid and Trail Of Tears singles could be slotted. What made this stand out, however, was that each of the singles had a Tyla-drawn cartoon which when placed correctly into the gatefold sleeve enabled you to read the whole story.
One of the more interesting examples of the shaped picture disc was WASP's PMRC-baiting Animal (Fuck Like A Beast) which was cut into the shape of the bloodied buzz-saw codpiece modelled by Blackie Lawless on the cover of
the regular twelve inch. Guns'N'Roses had one of the best for my money, though. Their Paradise City release came as an eleven inch disc in the shape of a gun, complete with its' own holster shaped sleeve. A gold star to the bright spark who thought that one up.
Coloured vinyl was an occasional temptation, usually in some garish shade of green or pink (I'm looking at you again, Poison), although Bon Jovi managed to come across all patriotic for their Lay Your Hands On Me release which was available on no less than three separate seven inch coloured vinyls in red, white and blue. For good measure (and to ensure that my wallet was thoroughly cleaned out) they also released it on a shaped picture disc.
Other one-off novelties of the time included The Cult's Sun King which was housed in a black PVC hologram sleeve, and M's Pop Music which had a double groove meaning that when you dropped your needle onto the vinyl you never knew which of the two songs on it you were going to get, but the award for the most original and outrageous format of all time goes to Bay Area thrashers Vio-lence.
The band, known for their aggressive marketing, came up with the ultimate in offensive packaging, even managing to get the format banned from some record shops, when they decided to release their Eternal Nightmare single in a special 'vomit pack'. This was a clear plastic sleeve filled with vomit (actually vegetable soup and vinegar, but it still gave off enough of a vile aroma to induce the genuine article if you got too close, especially on hot days) into which the single could be inserted. Sadly for the band it did little to raise their profile, but it did guarantee them a place in the history of music marketing.
Sadly the days of interesting formats seem to have gone the way of 8-tracks, cassette singles and Michael Jackson's career, but consider this. With record companies having finally embraced the download market for singles, we may in a few years be mourning the loss of even the bland CD single format.
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment