For a start, any vinyl record that presumes to teach you something about sex already has a lot working against it…but throw a creepy/pervo Norman Rockwell vibe into the mix with the cover art and you have WTF gold. And look at that cup of coffee she’s got there…whatever she’s learning from that record, she’ll be up all night thinking about it.
I discovered this one at the similarly WTF-n-vintage-obsessed Vintage Everyday blog. Good stuff there…and a lot of it!
There’s a combination of horrors on this album cover which all add up to WTF. At first glance I didn’t think this record artwork was SO very bad–it seems to be a typically cheesy 80s record. But the more I looked at it, the more I realized how much I was falling in love with its sheer awfulness.
The five-o’clock shadow on his goofy grinning face, the utterly horrifying white shorts (which seem to hint that they aren’t used to being on…for very long) and that enormous HELMET of hair…throw those tube socks into the mix and you have one great big ol’ WTF album cover.
P.S. HOW does ANYBODY do aerobics to the ET theme song?
I’ve been staring at this album cover for quite some time trying to remember what it reminded me of…
I have never listened to Come to The Chapel, but I can only imagine that it’s totally dreadful–LOOK at this and try to convince someone, anyone, that it’s worth five seconds of needle-drop time. Just TRY.
But that’s besides the point. I could NOT get it out of my head what it was this LP cover was reminding me of in all its wretched glory. And then it popped into my head like the distant drunken memory of touching a party guest inappropriately after one too many glasses of wine…
If you’ve never seen the film, that reference will mean NOTHING to you…but if you HAVE seen House of Whipcord, doesn’t this poor old born-again crooner lady bear the faintest resemblance to the creepy whip-loving matron of the private dungeon in the Pete Walker flick?
She just projects the VIBE of someone who would be inclined to keep “wayward girls” locked up in an illegal detention center waiting for the chance to put ’em on trial or lay down the whip, either way.
If you have not seen the movie, you owe yourself a look at this obscure 70s retro classic of Brit moral terror. Click the pic to go buy it right this effing instant from Amazon.com.
It’s been a while since there were any serious updates here…but I’m looking to alter that, especially in light of the developments with Vinyl Road Rage V as of late.
I’ve been contemplating doing an experiment–a spoken word tour of open mic nights along the vinyl road rage route that would have me on stage talking about the weird and wonderful vinyl finds I make on the journey. Vinyl Road Rage has always felt like some kind of band tour for me, but I never performed in any capacity along the way.
This year I’m looking to change that. I’m trying to find venues to hit on the route between Chicago and Pittsburgh, then from Pittsburgh to Minneapolis and beyond. Open mic nights are free-for-all, come one-come all type events (so it seems to me) so it will be interesting to do and even more interesting to see if there’s any interest in some form of fun discussion of vinyl records that involves weirdness, snotty humor and bad album covers.
I’ve got about 20 albums all set aside for the first of these experiments, which I plan to do here in Chicago very soon. I’ll keep you posted on that and will be posting dates and times soon.
In the meantime, I do plan on resurrecting the WTF Records posts here and yes, the BOOK version of WTF Records is NOT dead…it’s just been a bit dormant lately as I’ve been swamped with school (I’m doing coursework in the Sound Design program at Tribeca Flashpoint Media Academy) and paying the bills….
Stay tuned for Vinyl Road Rage dates as well as the spoken word dates and times–Chicago is first, I plan on hitting one a week (at a minimum) to warm up for Vinyl Road Rate. Stay tuned!
This video is NOT for the hung over, the easily irritated, or for anyone with an irrational fear of out-of-tune singing. Florence Foster Jenkins, was, by the accounts available in the usual places, a complete nutjob who was CONVINCED she was the Maria Callas of her day. If there is ever another sequel in the SAW franchise, it should be dedicated to visualizing the sonic torture this poor deluded tone-deaf throat scrambler has inflicted on many victims by way of vinyl and live performances.
OK, technically it didn’t START with Dylan, but it’s as good a jumping off point as any. So with that disclaimer in mind…it starts with Bob Dylan, who doesn’t take a bad cover photo…
But sadly, did not END there. From more or less acceptable to…high school yearbook?
And, sadly, the phrase “me too” is never far from a singer’s mind.
Some choose to take the cover portrait to new levels of awfulness, but at least there are some laughs to be had. Behold the grimacing, hideous disembodied head of Trick Daddy, available for hire to appear at Halloween parties and Bar Mitzvahs everywhere…but never for the faint of heart.
When will it end? Hopefully, never. We NEED these buffoons, we truly do.
For some reason, WTF album art gets SUPER, er, WTF-y, when it comes to albums for and about children. Special thanks to BizarreRecords.com for two of these gems which should terrify any and everyone.
Has this guy been arrested yet?
Let’s see if this concept is understood properly. An adult male who has never been married, or is active sexually is going to…teach your kids about sex. Or teach YOU how to teach them. Not only that, the adult male in question looks like a clueless berk who just got out of a minimum security prison for forging postage stamps.
It is NEVER safe to assume that an album cover with a puppet on it is a children’s record. It’s been said before and it’s getting repeated here; if half of the whole point of the ventriloquist act is to do tricks where it looks like the dummy is talking and not the human, WHY DO A RECORD? Never mind. Just revel in the delicious awfulness.
There really is NO EXCUSE for how atrocious this album cover is. If the primary, overriding objective of an album cover is to make you interested in purchasing the album, the only thing this little wretched thing is good for is appealing to that fractional amount of music consumers who have a voracious, never-satisfied sexual fetish for knitwear: