Here are some pictures I scanned in some time ago from the amazing booklet that comes with In Search of Space, Hawkwind's second album from 1971. It features a collage of text and photos/illustrations - supposedly a found log book belonging to a space ship - containing notes left by these wandering space travellers, cryptic messages to whatever roaming earthling might stumble upon it: in search of space, in search of the past...
Being a girl who counts art and music as absolute lifelines, I just couldn't be happier than in those magical instances when the two coincide - which is just one of the many reasons I love vinyl so much: that marriage is everywhere! All praises can be sung to the big, beautiful covers of the LP, but the possibility for visual creativity in this medium is endless - in this case, it's found on the small sleeves of the humble 45.
Illustrator Kavel Rafferty has an amazing blog called Record Envelope dedicated to her collection of just such a thing, and here are some of my favorites.
My first memories of Joni Mitchell's songs are from an age I can't quite narrow down; too young, but old enough to recall.
What I can see in that soft-focused time begins from my parents' turntable: there I am, sitting in the living room, listening to "The Circle Game" on Ladies of the Canyon and thinking about how I was in the magical midst of my youth and I needed to Appreciate It, appreciate everything. That years ago my mother had been young with a life I knew nothing about when she'd bought this record, without any notion she'd have a little girl someday (as I sat there in her faded Indian linen hippie hand-me-downs); a weirdly nostalgic kid who'd sit there thinking herself in circles about those cycles - not unlike the song.
Other days after school, in the tiring sunlight of late afternoon, I'd drop the needle on song one (a meandering tune about some dreamy-sounding place called Cotton Avenue) from Don Juan's Reckless Daughter and imagine intently through all four sides to that album about what it would be like when I was all grown and on my own, young and free, adventuring on all the Cotton Avenues of my life that I could hardly wait to find.
A few years later I remember picking up a used copy of Blue on CD at the record store in Fredericksburg, Virginia, to pop in my discman for the walk home after work - all the acoustic guitar and piano-driven gems of songs falling snugly into place in my ears like old friends I'd forgotten but still knew to the core, their seats in my heart still warm and waiting.
Anyway, I love this series of photographs of her; like the best of her music, simple and beautiful:
Mariska Veres was the singer for the late 1960s/early-70s Dutch group Shocking Blue, with a powerful voice and striking presence that reminds me of Grace Slick. With her dark kohl-rimmed eyes, long black hair and thick brow-skimming bangs, Mariska's look is all about colorful mini-dresses and bright outfits, bold jewelry and tall boots. Born in Holland to a Hungarian gypsy violinist and a German mother, she had music in her blood. Contrary to popular attitudes of the time, especially for rock groups, Mariska was no wild woman in regards to her lifestyle - she didn't smoke and rarely drank, almost always preferring tea and taking lots of time apart to herself. When Mariska was asked to join Shocking Blue, she requested that the other members of the band would not start any relationships with her that were not strictly professional. In a 1996 interview with Belgian magazine Flair, Mariska says of her days with Shocking Blue: "I was just a painted doll, nobody could ever reach me... Nowadays I am more open to people." Mariska died of cancer in 2006, but her legend and influence live on.
Before being covered as a disco-heavy rendition by Bananarama that is still played to death on the radio and razor commercials, Shocking Blue's Venus was their biggest hit (and only one stateside). I have to say I'm not really a fan of this particular song, for nothing else thanks to its oversaturation, but Mariska's strong, deep vocals paired with the high energy of the band make for a compelling catalogue and gained them a bit of a cult following: among many other groups who still perform their songs, Nirvana covered Shocking Blue's Love Buzz on their debut single in 1988.
