Heavy Metal Art

Last month I mentioned Martin Popoff's book The Top 500 Heavy Metal Songs of All Time. Well, that's not the only book this dedicated metal scribe has penned. Amongst others, he's also the proud creator of The Collector's Guide to Heavy Metal (Collector's Guide Publishing, though according to Amazon it's out of print). This massive 544-page tome features 3700 reviews of metal albums. Add to that another edition, The Collector's Guide to Heavy Metal: The Seventies and you've got a lot of vinyl to track down if you really want a complete collection.

Perhaps more than any other genre, metal has been susceptible to the collector/completist mentality. Because of the rabid devotion metal acts tend to inspire, it's generally inconceivable to not own every album from whatever artist, not to mention every single - both 7” and 12", and every other permutation thereof. Hence an onslaught of shaped, coloured, and picture vinyl, all of which must be diligently added to the collection. At least that's how it was in the mid-eighties when certain acts certainly took advantage of their fans dedication by releasing a never ending array of supposed 'collectors items' that were produced in such mass quantities that they were probably not even worth the price of a cassingle.

Not to harp on about the usual suspects, but Iron Maiden and Metallica were two of the worst examples of this dubious practice. Both released so-called collector's vinyl, playing on the fans obsessive archivist mentality, and not coincidentally both acts became very wealthy through this kind of (astute?) merchandising. These bands nurtured a similar attitude amongst their fans, making them believe they were part of the inner circle. Part of this equation was the cover art, which helped to create the legend of the bands and a kind of universal 'brand' attached to all of their products, be it records, t-shirts, or posters.

Few other types of music indulged in this kind of exploitation of the fan mentality. Punk did to a certain extent, but by its very nature it did not engender the same corporate philosophy. Metal fans wore their art on their sleeve, in the form of patches and badges.
Iron Maiden's mascot was 'Eddie the 'Ead' - the product of an East London legend about a boy born with only a head. All their covers featured this ghoulish character in various guises, some quite controversial. 1980's 'Sanctuary' single featured a knife-wielding Eddie astride a very dead Margaret Thatcher - the Iron Lady, aka the Iron Maiden. This made headlines in the UK, and elicited this statement from Downing Street: "This is not the way we would like the prime minister portrayed. I'm sure she would not like it."

The reclusive Derek Riggs was Maiden’s artist during the eighties. His metamorphosis of the Eddie character over the course of nine albums and a plethora of singles defined Maiden's image almost as much as their music. In the best tradition of cover art it became a quintessential part of the overall package, inseparable from the music. Riggs’ artwork also became increasingly complex, fantasy-art inspired, and amusing. On the Egyptian-themed Powerslave (1984) sleeve, amongst the hieroglyphics appears Mickey Mouse. The pinnacle of these efforts was 1987's Somewhere In Time sleeve, an incredibly detailed urban fantasy inspired by Bladerunner. Riggs has said he worked for so long without rest on this sleeve that he started to hallucinate.

His art inspired many a metal band to create their own mascot. Metallica instead chose to use the artwork of a young punk skateboarder called Brian Schroeder, who drew under the name Pushead. His work was known throughout the Bay Area scene, but it became synonymous with Metallica after ...And Justice For All. Previously they had used fantasy art from the likes of Alvin Petty. Pushead's cartoonish skulls redefined Metallica's identity to a large extent, tying together their humour, thrash roots and uncompromising attitude, and moving them away from traditional metal imagery. This was a prescient move, as the time-honoured fantasy imagery was fast becoming passé.

It's ironic that an outcast like Pushead should serve a major role in the re-branding of what would become one of the biggest corporate machines in modern music.
Both Riggs' and Pushead's art defined the images of these two monsters of rock, and their work became something of a badge of honour for the fans. Particularly for those who got the tattoo. Personally, I'd opt for the Motörhead pig featured here. If this image doesn't singularly define a band then nothing does. But then Motörhead have always had exquisite taste - or should that be class? Their album covers reign supreme in the metal realm. Q magazine's The 100 Best Record Covers of All Time lists 1979's Bomber as a classic. "'Much of the wonder of the dolphin lies in the tranquil glide of its path through the ocean' reads the blurb for Adrian Chesterman's wildlife book Freedom of the Oceans. How very different from the image he created for Motörhead's Bomber sleeve ...here was a vision more terrifying than any number of Iron Crosses and amphetamine pills."

Not too many other metal sleeves appear in the Q 100, just Sabbath, Zeppelin, and Maiden. Maybe this is surprising, as there have been some great ones. Then again most have been of a type, and if cliché was ever a disease it was in the world of heavy metal. Or perhaps too few bands have had the incredible branding savvy exhibited by Metallica and Iron Maiden.