Cover Story #11: Vote for Pedro? - Pickled Priest Ranks Funkadelic's Album Covers
For our latest cover story, we navigate the mind-expanding creative universe of Funkadelic, which extended well beyond the band's groundbreaking psych-funk musical excursions into deep space. Today we're all about the visuals. Same otherworldly aesthetic, but instead of supercharging your booty, this time we're here to excite your eyes. If any group from the 1970s cultivated their own utopian galaxy, where identity, politics, sexuality, fantasy, and philosophy all thrived, it was Funkadelic.
In total, the band released a dozen studio albums during their prime years (roughly 1970 to 1981). We're not going to give blog time to the two 21st century records released under the Funkadelic name, nor are we assessing live or compilation records. And no, we're not incorporating brother band, Parliament, at this point either. That's for another day. Today, we're focusing on the meat of the Funkadelic story. That's it.
To simplify your understanding, the stories of the twelve covers included all came from two primary sources:
Pedro Bell - A Chicago artist who became the "official" album cover artist for the band from 1973 to 1981. He contributed seven distinct covers during this short time, all of which are immediately identifiable as coming from the hand of one gloriously demented and wonderfully ridiculous mind. George Clinton has said that Pedro's art "crystallized their identity to the world," which is high praise for Bell, who famously called his comic book-styled artwork "scartoons" because "they left a mark" and that's a pretty fair, albeit modest, description of his artistic impact. His story will unfold as we travel through the individual cover discussions below.
DFK - A design collective (aka The Graffiteria) run by Dave Krieger that specialized in album cover design. They operated mainly during the 1960s and 70s and worked with many soul artists along the way (Stax was a client in the 70s and they were responsible for Isaac Hayes' classic fold-out cover for Black Moses and countless others). If the album cover isn't a Pedro Bell project, it's by this group of talented designers. Most were done prior to Pedro's arrival in the Funkadelic inner circle.
That's all you need to know at this point. Now, let's take a look at what each produced for one of the world's most original bands ever. Not an easy task, but you'll soon see that both were highly successful in their own distinct ways.
PICKLED PRIEST RANKS FUNKADELIC'S ALBUM COVERS
12 Funkadelic (1970)
There's not much originality in this cover of the very first Funkadelic record, designed by DFK, just some pseudo-psychedelic, late-60s kaleidoscoping action, which was the default way to convey a vibe of freaked-outedness in the late-60s. The calendar had just turned over to 1970 when this record was released and Funkadelic was still figuring out who and what they wanted to be at the time, so it's not surprising that that uncertainty shows up visually as well—not an uncommon phenomenon for a new band trying to find their way. For a band that routinely felt like they had their finger on the pulse of the future, it's notable if not groundbreaking. The font looks like decals stolen from a fifth-grade girl's bedroom door. Overall, not offensive, but nothing special.
Ed. Note: Remember the face on the cover for later.
11 Let's Take It to the Stage (1975)
This is the first of the Pedro Bell album covers on this list, but Let's Take It to the Stage was his third cover overall for Funkadelic. It came two years after The Exorcist phenomenon took hold of the country and it is clearly influenced by the notorious scene where Regan's belly reveals a horrifying "Help Me" message to a visiting priest (!) seemingly written by the trapped girl whose body has been possessed by the devil himself. That's all well and good, well sorta, but this cover seems a little on-trend for a Funkadelic cover, which normally operated in a world from its own imagination. I mean, the scene in the movie wouldn't have been nearly as chilling if the girl had written "Let's take it to the stage" on her abdomen instead, although that would've added some much-needed levity to the high-tension affair.
"What's that supposed to mean, Father Karras?"
"I believe it means she wants to join a funk band, but I can't be sure."
The cover message seems indicate that the girl is now possessed by Funkadelic, definitely the better of the two options. It's just not that clever, which makes this one of Bell's least successful designs. It lacks the unpredictability and whimsicality of his best work—at least on the front half, which is what we're primarily assessing here. It should be noted that most of Bell's cover designs carried over onto the back cover gatefold, with some bizarre shit often relegated to the backside unfairly and sometimes unwisely. Such is the case here. I would've reversed the two at the least or just rejected the front cover outright as too derivative. It's not worthy of the Funkadelic aesthetic.
10 Tales of Kidd Funkadelic (1976)
Bell's fifth cover for Funkadelic has some highs and lows. It was much better than Let's Take It to the Stage, but not entirely successful. My main issue is that the center of the cover is dedicated to a kid with matching monogrammed underwear (aka guitarist Michael "Kidd Funkadelic" Hampton). Conventional renderings were not Bell's strength and this is Exhibit A. On the other hand, if you need an example of Bell's wheelhouse in full rotation, the girl on the far right is all you need. If you break down Bell's covers into individual elements, this would be near the top. In one image the lunacy of his imagination comes fully together. He mostly worked in markers and colored pens and this image is a strong example of how that approach can vibrantly translate to a bigger canvas (his cover concepts were often done on a huge scale compared to the actual cover size of an LP, which explains why some of his ideas are best viewed under a magnifying glass). The other front cover elements are less successful. The purple upside-down woman doesn't make a strong impact (is that even possible?) and the skull, long a part of the Funkadelic logo and imagery, is a bit too comical for its own good. Plus, the album title takes up a little too much space. In other words, this seems like Pedro Bell on autopilot to a degree. Still strong, with flashes of brilliance, but not his best work when measured against his full portfolio. As usual, the full gatefold does add some additional context (using the term loosely) and adds some of his best ideas, but once again those are reserved for the backside. Which does you no good when you're flipping through the racks at a record store. Once you bring it home, fire up a doobie, and settle in, you'll have plenty of time to soak in the whole package, but again, today we're all about the front cover, baby.
Note: It has been said that Bell was an early inspiration for Basquiat and this cover seems to support that claim.
09 American Eats Its Young (1972)
The first four Funkadelic album covers were not done by Pedro Bell, which is visually obvious to even the most casual viewer. While this cover isn't wildly creative, it shows that Funkadelic wasn't afraid of making a subversive political or social statement when they wanted to, one that was usually filtered through a realistic perspective straight from the ghetto. They had good reason to be disillusioned, too, especially in the early-70s, not a great time for the country and, to say the least, black folks. Here they shine a light on American inequality by asking what kind of country disregards its most vulnerable members? From a design standpoint, I might've moved this down a bit on the list if not for the Statue of Liberty herself sloppily scarfing down some plump American children from the Young Baby Buffet. Bring me your tender, your juicy, your lightly seasoned offspring yearning to be eaten. This is messed up in the best possible way.
08 Uncle Jam Wants You (1979)
Only once during Pedro's official tenure with Funkadelic did the band use an album cover from another graphic designer (in this case, the aforementioned DFK) and it was this concept album clearly inspired by a photo of Black Panthers' co-founder Huey P. Newton in his now iconic "wicker peacock chair," taken at the height of his influence on the movement (see below for original). Today, we call this a power flex. That he pulled it off in a wicker peacock chair only makes him more badass in my book. Funkadelic's take on the same photo is a reverent parody, but I do wonder what Huey thought of it. Perhaps he was honored. We'll never know, I imagine. Suffice it to say, the band's mission statement was far less ambitious than that of the Black Panthers, with the ultimate goal of Funkadelic's Uncle Jam Wants You "movement" to 'Rescue Dance Music "From the Blahs."' They put it right there on the cover, after all. I guess you can't move on to the big stuff until you've got that issue straightened out first and George Clinton and friends were just the guys to make it happen, so drag the wicker peacock out of storage, grab a giant flashlight and a fake elephant gun and get the camera ready. At the time, Funkadelic could do just about anything so I imagine this was a highly effective way to recruit new Funkadelic soliders for his revolution.
Note: It is a bit ironic that Pedro Bell didn't do this cover, especially considering he was an active supporter of the Black Panthers' cause at the time.
07 Cosmic Slop (1973)
This was Pedro Bell's very first Funkadelic album cover so now is a good time to quickly recount how Pedro became the default cover artist for Funkadelic in the first pace. Basically, it was good old American perseverance. Bell was born and raised in Chicago (!!) and went to art school in Illinois (Bradley University). After hearing some early Funkadelic music on the radio he started sending the band some of his artwork along with other writings and the like. George Clinton loved what he saw and Bell was soon helping the band with gig posters, press releases, publicity, and liner notes (as "Sir Lleb," an alias). After that, album covers were the next logical step for his unique talents. Bell has said his style was influenced by the Afrofuturistic artwork found on Sun Ra's albums, the demented humor behind Frank Zappa's covers, Chicago's street art scene, and the hot rod illustrations of famed artist Ed "Big Daddy" Roth. Quite a diverse set of influences. He soon developed his own distinct look and style, which then became the official graphic footprint of one of America's most dynamic and imaginative bands. Along the way, Bell helped craft a "shared universe" for the band and its fans, one with its own language, slogans, and imagery. Only in America!
His first attempt, despite being considered by some (Rolling Stone magazine for one) to be among the best album covers of all time, ranks a little lower for me mainly because the dominant image of the woman disturbs me so. That's by design, of course, but my reality is that it's not an image I want to spend too much time staring at, especially her zombified face and piranha-like teeth. My sophisticated inner art critic tells me that it simply "weirds me out" too much. It also looks like she's been drugged, which draws additional negative connotations. Is she about the be sacrificed in some tribal space ceremony? That said, just about everything else happening around her face, including the unsettling mini-face buried in her afro, is eerily appealing, like the bottom of the ocean and all its exotic creatures got shot into space somehow and are now floating about randomly. There's more than enough of Bell's madcap creations to carry the cover and then some, but it's difficult for me to get past the predominant image. Obviously, I'm in the minority on this one. Regardless, the future die was cast on this first attempt and there were many more opportunities to come for Bell's artistry to shine. One important side note: this is the first Funkadelic album to feature the official band logo on the cover.* It was designed by a woman named Cathy Abel and it would go on all future album covers and has since become one of the most recognized band logos of all time.
*The logo itself was first used on an insert with 1972's America Eats Its Young LP, but this is the first cover to feature the iconic logo.
06 Standing On the Verge of Getting It On (1974)
Pedro Bell has said he would only know the album's title before doing his artwork, so he had no real idea what the songs on the album were about or what the title really meant. With that understanding, most of his covers jam in so much wackiness that he was bound to come reasonably close to the intent at some point. Here, we've got a giant naked lady standing in the upper left corner waiting to get it on, presumably. That covers the most obvious take on the title. There's also a naked man carrying a "United Streaker Front" sign that certainly covers something, although I'm not sure what. Ray Stevens' #1 hit, "The Streak," started a public nudity craze in the mid-70s, so the inspiration there was pretty on-trend. If you're naked, you're always on the verge of getting it on in theory. Then, there's the giant battle-bot clearly ready for warfare. He's ready to get it on, but in an entirely different way. In short, I don't know what the fuck is really going on here, but that's what made Bell's work so fun and fitting for the Funkosphere, where anything at any time could potentially get the green light. The great album title must've provided a healthy amount of inspiration to Bell, I'd imagine, and he ran with it.
05 Hardcore Jollies (1976)
Take a minute to digest this color blast. I can wait. I love the use of black and white throughout which makes the vibrant red, green, purple, yellow, and pink colors pop off the LP unlike any other Funkadelic release. Sometimes Pedro's marker approach caused a little dilution in the color scheme, but here the saturation is deep and rich, which makes everything really stand out. Each individual image is worth focusing on while you're listening to some grade-A funk. Take specific note of the randomly floating "666" in space. Something the Webb Telescope has yet to pick up during its mission.
04 One Nation Under a Groove (1978)
To my recent point that Pedro Bell didn't know what Funkadelic's album titles meant prior to doing the art, this one had to be a little easier on him. The title was a bona-fide aspirational mission statement. An easy to understand statement of purpose with a solitary goal; to unite the world under the same groove. A noble idea and, amazingly, still the coolest answer anyone's come up with to address our current troubles. Maybe we should elect Funkadelic president once and for all to make it happen, just as they are doing here by raising the funk flag once and for all, a la the famed Iwo Jima statue, to plant the idea officially in the world's consciousness. I love the openness of this cover and its overall composition, the pink smoke background a nice effect, and the fact it accomplishes its purpose without the "kitchen sink" approach of other Bell album covers shows that the band's intent was pretty clear this time. And Pedro delivered the perfect cover as a result.
03 Free Your Mind and Your Ass Will Follow (1970)
The working mantra of Funkadelic from the early days of the band is right here and I must say it's executed brilliantly, although they didn't fully nail it on the first attempt. The original release, featured above, had the woman's outstretched arms pointing downward. The back cover had a picture of the band and not the woman's lower half. Her lower half was relegated to the inside of the gatefold sleeve because the woman was naked and there are a lot of prudes in America. Later versions corrected the issue by reorienting the photo as shown in the lower cover. This way, in a more permissive world the gatefold, when opened, would show the full photo, which perfectly complements the intent of the album's title (see below).
Now, you have to admit, this is much better. Not because I like to look at her ass, either. Strictly from a conceptual angle, I can assure you. You just should be able to unfold the album and see the whole picture with half the title at the top and half the title on the, er, bottom. No longer any need to open the album and piece the parts together on your own time. The simplicity of the image, the heavy blue-sky background, and the split title makes this an iconic piece of funk cover art. Credit veteran photographer Joel Brodsky for the shot (more on him later). The slogan still resonates more than 50 years later. It is the holy grail of funk, a reminder that there are people out there just like you—people ready, willing, and able to let their freak flags fly.
02 The Electric Spanking of War Babies (1981)
At least here at Pickled Priest, this is the ultimate Pedro Bell album cover. So provocative that it had to be heavily censored before it hit the racks, the album experience isn't the same without the phallic, spanking-machine-equipped spaceship shown on the cover. What advanced society built this thing? What do they know that we don't? What level of consensuality is involved? Is this the net negative for the female gender that it appears to be or is the opposite true somehow? All spanking isn't unwelcome, after all. A good cover keeps you busy. It gives you something to do rather than just sit there. While this work doesn't have the busy madness of some other Bell covers, what else could you possibly need beyond this striking image? It has a singular purpose more than most other Funkadelic album covers. A purpose so important, they built two additional rockets just to film the whole thing. If you want people to stare at your album cover, this is how you do it. How you don't do it is by censoring everything great about the cover. If you don't want to sell it in your store, that's your choice, but let art be art. I do like that Pedro still tweaked the establishment by putting "The Cover that 'THEY' were TOO-SCARED to print!" (sic) right on the intrusive green tarp laid over the cover, complete with tiny windows you can peek through. Bell got the last laugh, of course, because nothing titillates the populace quite like a banned or censored image. It gave way more attention and free advertising to the album (and artist) than leaving it as is would have. That in itself is a form of marketing genius.
01 Maggot Brain (1971)
With apologies to the life's work of Pedro Bell, when most people think of Funkadelic they think of the iconic cover of Maggot Brain. It's still on t-shirts, stickers, patches, posters, you name it, to this day. The screaming black woman buried up to her neck in the ground is an image impossible to forget. It looks like a still from a 1970's horror flick, which, with this title, promises visual atrocities out the wazoo. The woman in dire straits is actually Barbara Cheeseborough, a model often credited with popularizing Afrocentric style in the 60s and 70s. You may remember her from Funkadelic's self-titled debut a year prior (see entry #12). The photo was taken by prolific album cover photographer, Joel Brodsky.* The composition here is flawless and provocative, the title creepy and disgusting in the best possible way, and I've gotta give some props to the staggered orange lettering used. Just perfect in all ways. A day will never come where I am not immediately drawn to it. It's one of the most recognizable images in design history for a reason. To add to its greatness, the back cover featured the same image sometime later. See below. Double morbid genius!
*Some of Brodsky's other notable covers: Funkadelic's Free Your Mind and Your Ass Will Follow, Van Morrison's Astral Weeks, The Stooges' debut, Kiss's debut, McLemore Avenue by Booker T & the MGs, and a bunch of Jim Morrison/Doors-related crap.
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Well my funky flock, that's it for this short-stack of classic album covers, for better or worse. And always remember to free your mind, you never know what might follow.
Cheers,
The Priest