John Foster takes music packaging very seriously. He has deconstructed the design of the recording industry through his personal work and his books, Maximum Page Design (HOW), New Masters of Poster Design (Rockport) and the upcoming For Sale: Innovative Solutions in Packaging Design (HOW) as well as a monograph of Sub Pop’s Art Director, Jeff Kleinsmith, slated for publication by the label in 2008.
He will be poking and prodding various albums on a weekly basis so please be sure to keep an eye out!
This week’s victims:
Juana Molina “Son”
Is it worth listening to no matter what it looks like? When a record kicks off with the joy that is “Rio Seco” with it’s husky tones mixed between sweet couplets and intertwining acoustic guitars balancing dry percussion and otherworldly sounds drifting in the background – it is damn hard to argue against it. This is probably my favorite Molina tune and within its simple drift are all of her charms. Making like a South American Jim White (including her acting), she turns easy picking music into something from outer space and magical. “Yo No” brings jazzy vocal swells and uses various voices to perform the percussive duties until some light bongos fill their place and then serve to compete with the quick bursts at the midpoint reminding me a great deal of another under appreciated duo of composers in Shelleyan Orphan.
In putting things into a “now” context: Molina’s music is what it would sound like if Jose Gonzales joined The Knife rather than simply covered them.
“La Verdad” joins calling birds and a gently picked guitar pattern to a scat workout late in the song pushed aside by a keyboard part that feels as if it is being played in reverse. The middle portion of the record is more pensive and sticks closer to the folk (or freak folk) feel culminating in the simple encroaching darkness of “Micael” as it ruminates into a kitchen sink percussive build. “Son” slows things down to nearly a whisper as the vocals sound eerily like distant trains and church bells. The sleepy vibe continues for several songs even with “Malherdio” and it’s sing-songy lilt. “Desordenado” brings back a gospel like surge of vocal triumph over those backwards keyboards building a rhythm, much like a latin Le Loup. “Elena” dances about the fretboard and “Hay Que Ver Si Voy” closes out sweetly rolling around before fading to distant noise as if you were entering Twin Peaks.
The only knock with Molina is that every track is so stunning in it’s own right that hearing some of the same tricks pulled out over an album can take some of the luster off. I liken it to hearing Animal Collective where you can be totally blown away by a single song but a few albums later it doesn’t hit as hard or as quick. I sincerely wish there wasn’t a penalty for being so talented and unusual…
Credit: “Cover: Alejandro Ros, the tapestry, the dresses and embroideries were done by my great aunt Elba Villafane”
Any signs of creative interference in the design process by the artist? Obviously…
Does the look fit the sound? Alejandro Ros is a very talented designer in Argentina and has done some pretty amazing work of the years in CD packaging. He worked on Molina’s previous discs with great success but it is unfortunate that in pairing with her strongest work musically, the wrapping drops off in weight. Obviously Molina had a large say in this with the dreaded inclusion of art from her great aunt. It is telling that Ros shows her other discs off proudly in his portfolio while this one is absent.
That’s not to say that he doesn’t attempt a rescue. Laying out the exterior portion using the unsettling tapestry and collage he hits on the one unique quality worth building upon – the rhinestones. Bedazzled as it were, the piece is packed with dime store versions at every turn but in little pattern or forethought. Using this he adds in a silver metallic foil to spell out the title in dots of the same size as well as setting up areas of interest around the horse and creating a “string” from the child’s jacket. When it catches the light it makes for a nice effect but it is not nearly enough to offset the cover image nor is it very useful behind the jewel case in most instances. The sad dog on the rear tray gets the treatment and in setting up the label art the disc itself is used to mimic this and as it shines in a twinkle when the light hits the reflective material it is here that it is the most successful.
The interior pages are riddled with clunky type following along the lines of jewels or embroidery that are not photographed or scanned particularly well. It becomes far too many pages of this to wade through and since it is only a 16-page booklet that says a lot. With Ros only credit for the exterior I have to assume someone in-house took care of the remainder.
Final score (out of 10): 4.5 design, 7.5 for the music
