The Secret Life of the Album Cover
No. 1: "Fugazi" by Marillion
Note: The original image files have gone the way of all flesh, so if you're reading this for the first time, please ignore all references to figure this or that (Fig 2, Fig 5 etc) as there is now only one large picture. I couldn't be bothered chopping it all up again.
In another new section to my journal, I'll be taking a look at some of the more interesting album covers in my collection. Time was when an album sleeve meant something, said something to you, and quite often there were many little interesting details about it that perhaps on first look didn't immediately jump out at you, but that afterwards you noticed, and appreciated. Of course, for those of us in the know (and old enough!) the master of this was Hipgnosis, who of course designed some of the best sleeves for bands like Genesis, ELO, Pink Floyd and The Alan Parsons Project, to name but a few in their illustrious catalogue. The artwork on their covers became iconic and timeless: who can forget the simple yet stunningly effective cover for Pink Floyd's “Dark side of the moon”?
But Hipgnosis had not cornered the market, and there were a lot of really fascinating and deep album covers out there, back when people bought vinyl records and there was something to look at, as opposed to just a 60 x 60 Jpeg of so-called “album art”! Back then, album covers were almost as important as the album itself: you would put on the record (taking it VERY carefully out of the inner sleeve and placing it on the turntable --- what? Oh, look it up on Wiki!) and then like as not sit back with the sleeve and read not only the lyrics, but the liner notes too as the album played, and admire the intricate artwork on the cover. Ah, those were the days!
(Cough!) Excuse me, the old rheumatism plays up now and then. What was that sonny? Speak up! Oh yes indeed: the point of this piece. Well, I was gettin' to that, young feller! Shee! You young 'uns have no patience these days. Why, in my time.... zzzzzzzz. What?! Oh, sorry! I tend to nod off sometimes. Age, you know. Anyway, back to the intro. Where was I? Oh yes, I remember!
Mark Wilkinson was the incredibly talented artist who designed the first four of Marillion's album sleeves, and their single sleeves too. After Fish left the band Wilkinson went with him, to design the covers of the ex-frontman's solo albums. Marillion album covers suffered from that, their next few being quite ordinary. I always felt Mark Wilkinson's work added an air of wonder and mystery to Marillion albums, and that was definitely lost when he went to work with Fish. Perhaps fittingly, though, as after Fish left the band began moving in a much different and less progressive rock direction. The below cover is for their second album, the slightly more commercial “Fugazi”, released in 1984, and the cover says a lot more than perhaps you would at first realise. In order to address this, I've cut out certain sections of the album cover --- front and reverse --- and will discuss each in as much depth as I feel I can. But first, a general overview.
Up until their fourth album, “Clutching at straws”, the last with Fish as vocalist and frontman, Marillion had always issued their albums in what were known as “gatefold” sleeves. Simply put, this means that the artwork for the album was spread over both the front and the back of the cover, and so you had to open it out to see it in all its glory. “Fugazi” is a typical example of this. Looking at the front only you can see some of the story, but open it to its full width and you see so much more.
The basic idea is of a figure lying prone on a bed, in what we assume to be a small bedsit. The figure does not look comfortable, in fact looks washed out and wasted, and is listening to music while drinking wine. Around him, other things are happening (or he is hallucinating them) that he either does not see or does not care about. Whether meant as such or not, I always find the figure on the bed strikingly reminiscent of the crucified Christ, after he has been taken down off the cross. The headphones on the Walkman also for me symbolise the crown of thorns Jesus was forced to wear while being crucified. So you could say this is the artist, perhaps, stretched on the rack of his own genius, crucified on the cross of his own endeavour? Perhaps nothing like this: that's just what it says to me.
It could also refer to the fact that, having expended their heart and soul creating one of the most impressive debut albums in 1983's “Script for a jester's tear”, Marillion (represented by the figure on the bed, who became known generically as “the Jester”, but to me will always be identified with Fish, again the fact that Wilkinson's last sleeve for Marillion was the last with Fish bears this out somewhat) had felt like they had nothing left to give. Or maybe crafting this album had drained them. Perhaps the “Jester” is thinking of what will have to be done to follow this up, and is daunted and depressed at the magnitude of the task before him.
That's the basic idea I get from the sleeve anyway, but now let's take some elements from the cover and analyse them in more detail. In figure 1 below, we see that though the figure on the bed is barely clothed, his reflection in the mirror wears the full costume of the jester. Is this two sides of the one person? Is it an alternate identity of the man on the bed? Which is the real one? Is the mirror reflecting the dreams and aspirations of the man on the bed, or is it in fact the Jester in the mirror who is real, and his reflection (through the mirror on the other side) is nothing more than a man, struggling to come to terms with his world and put this into song? The figure on the bed can be seen to be wearing a partial jester's outfit, but whether he has taken it off or was in the process of putting it on is uncertain. Without question though, there is a link between the two images.
Figure 2 shows the head of the man on the bed, as he listens to a Walkman (hey, again:look it up!), but seems oblivious to the music, if indeed music is playing. The scene recalls one of the lines in the title track:
”Sheathed within the Walkman/ Wear the halo of distortion/ Aural contraceptive/ Aborting pregnant conversation”, obviously Fish's lament that with the proliferation of hand-held cassette players like the Sony Walkman, people stopped talking to each other so easily, wrapped up in their music. As true then as it is today. I also mentioned the symbolism for the crown of thorns earlier. You can see too in his eyes that they are painted like that of a clown: which face is real, or are they all just masks?
A magpie sits on a chair, holding a ring in its beak. This would later come back in the double live 1988 compilation called “The Thieving Magpie” (“la gazza ladra”), but the ring at least in the magpie's beak could also refer to a line in “Emerald lies”:
”And the coffee stains gather/ Till the pale kimono/ Sets the wedding rings dancing/ On the cold linoleum.”
The magpie is stalked by a lizard, presumably the “she-chamelon” from the track of the same name on the album. Perhaps the fact that it (presumably she) is trying to catch the bird and rob the wedding ring, can be seen as a metaphor for a groupy (which the she-chameleons in the song are identified as) threatening a marriage? Of course, the magpie has stolen the ring in the first place, so maybe not...
A copy of
Billboard magazine lies on the bed, at the figure's feet. As influential a magazine as this is, perhaps he has read a bad review of the album? It's not clear, as you can't actually read the headline. Perhaps it was included for exactly the reverse reason, that Billboard loved the previous album? I don't think Marillion “broke” the US that early, though.
Is that picture
La Pagliacci, the clown from the Italian opera? I thnk it may be.
Spilled red wine could have different meanings. Perhaps it's just that the figure is drunk, and falling asleep or through carelessness has let the wine spill. Then again, the meaning could be deeper, as red wine is often used as a metaphor for blood, and perhaps this represents the labour the artist has put into his creation?
Whereas a red rose held in the hand surely symbolises love, possibly lost love?
(Part 2, concentrating on the reverse of the album sleeve, coming right up!)