When This Old Hat Was New

It was not altogether a surprise, having encouraged readers to listen to Chris Foster performing "When This Old Hat Was New" (in the post Another Six Penn'orth), that some commented: "A fine tune and a rich voice, but what in the name of Cecil Sharp are the actual words he is singing?" Which is a good question. I was never entirely sure myself.

That song is on his album All Things in Common from 1979. I never actually owned a copy, but it was frequently on the turntable at the house my future partner shared with a handful of medics in Bristol (all "junior doctors" at local hospitals, a trade soon to be rebadged "resident doctors", apparently, a curious choice). It was in that house that I learned never, ever to open an illustrated medical journal, a stack of which were kept next to the toilet. Particularly the one that had a regular "diagnose the skin condition" competition on the cover.

Anyway, talking of illustrations, and as I noted in that earlier post, I have always felt strangely moved by that album's cover art by Mike Tycer:

Those faces – oddly leonine when they're looking one way, moustachioed men when looking the other – beneath flat caps that might also be crowns, and above interlinked hints of boots, knees, and shrouded figures... Those are our ancestors working the land, sustained by the land, generation after generation. It's an image that rewards study, and of a quality which is actually not very characteristic of the typical 1970s LP sleeve, despite the received idea that album art flourished during the heyday of the 12" vinyl, 33 rpm long-playing record – roughly, mid-1960s to mid-1980s – and went into a decline when the comparatively tiny CD took over the mass music market.

So, look out, before we get onto those lyrics, here comes a digression.

I did actually check out this commonly-held view a while ago by looking at my surviving LPs, admittedly a small and idiosyncratic sample. But I found that – rather than the brilliant cover art I was expecting to find – I was mainly looking at bad paintings, crude montages, timid typography, tacky colour combinations, and poorly-reproduced photographs. It was also surprising how little creative use had actually been made of those generous 144 square inches on either side. Large areas of plain, blank colour predominated, and text was either kept to a minimum – generally no more than a list of tracks, and a few acknowledgements – or the lyrics were spread over the entire thing, in a tiny, unreadable font, often in the eye-dazzling colour combinations made fashionable by the "underground" press at the time. There were pointless gatefolds, opening onto nothing much of interest, and a surprising amount of corporate "noise" plastered over everything – company logos, copyright notices, serial numbers, etc. – that had once, somehow, been transparent.

There are exceptions, of course; there are always exceptions. From my sample, I found that Jethro Tull's Stand Up, David Bowie's Hunky Dory, Steely Dan's Katy Lied, and Weather Report's Mysterious Traveller still retain their original charm. The parody of Sgt. Pepper by the Mothers of Invention (We're Only In It For the Money) is still convincing, even in its original semi-censored version. The sleeves of jazz and classical label ECM have always been satisfying, of course, with their cool Nordic look and stylish use of photographs and typography; so much so, two entire books have been published of ECM's best designs. But by far the majority were either totally bland or downright offensive to my 21st-century eyes.

So it is hard to explain why everybody seems to think the opposite is true: that a high percentage of those LP sleeves were some kind of apotheosis of graphic design. But here are just a few reasons why that is not the case:

• If you can, just look at a typical magazine from the period, particularly the adverts, and compare with the current-day equivalent. The acceptable standard of commercial art was simply lower.
• "Full colour printing" was still a novelty in the 1960s, and cheap full colour printing required various technical compromises that overruled design considerations.
• The taste for surrealism has not aged well. Particularly when in the form of poorly-painted, sub-Dali-esque fantasy or psychedelia. Little Feat's Sailin' Shoes is a personal favourite, musically, but that cover (no. 18 in Rolling Stone's top 100 covers, I see) is simply tacky.
• Manipulating photographs used to be much more difficult. For every After The Gold Rush there are 100 horrible cut and paste jobs made with blunt scissors: see Disraeli Gears.
• Hipgnosis made a (probably) deserved name for themselves, and that reputation has somehow floated everyone else's boat. But how many other music packaging design teams can you name? And how many times do you really need or want to look at the sleeves of Houses of the Holy (tacky) or even Dark Side of the Moon (elegant but dull)?
•  As a fan of illustration, I find it hard to think of many illustrators working within the music field whose work stands out for me. Some people rate Klaus Voormann? Maybe. Peter Blake, I suppose. But let's not talk about Roger Dean or Mati Klarwein, please: I didn't like their stuff at the time, and it hasn't improved. I suspect that as a routine gig album-cover work may not have paid well.
• Things tend to get better, but we prefer to think they get worse. Otherwise, we'd just be very, very jealous of our own children's good fortune. As if!

In the end, album covers are just commercial packaging, and there's no more reason to consider them an art form than we do cereal packets or ready-meal boxes. After all, some of the best albums have the worst covers and are none the worse for that. Stop staring at the cardboard and put the round black vinyl thing inside on the turntable so we can listen to it!

OK, then. End of digression.

So, to get back to "When This Old Hat Was New"... On the back cover of All Things In Common Chris Foster noted:

This song is traceable back to a piece called Times Alteration written around 1630. The theme of old people looking nostalgically back at their earlier years is a well worn one, but in 1630 England was in the throes of an economic and political upheaval that probably gives this song a little more justification than usual. Looking nostalgically back to a golden past before the Norman Conquest was something that was popular at the time. Many people laid the blame for their troubles at the door of the Norman tyrant even though he had been dead for well over 500 years. But the Romans being a charitable institution really stretches credibility to the limit.

But you'll be wanting to see the actual lyrics. In his version the song goes like this: 

I am a poor old man, come listen to my song,
Provisions now are twice as dear as when that I was young.
It was when this old hat was new and stood above my brow,
O, what a happy youth was I when this old hat was new.

It is but four score years ago the truth I do declare,
When men they took each other’s words, they thought it very fair,
No oaths or bonds they did require, men’s words were so true,
This was in my youthful days when this old hat was new.

When the time of harvest came and we went out to shear,
How often we were merry made with brandy, ale and beer.
And when the corn it was brought home and put upon the mow,
The workers paunches was well filled when this old hat was new.

The farmer at the board head stood, the table for to grace,
And greets all as they came in, all took their proper place.
His wife she at the table stood to give each man his due,
And O! what plenty did abound when this old hat was new.

But now the times are altered, the poor are quite done o’er,
They give to them their wages like beggars at the door.
Into the house we must not go, although we are but few,
It was not so when Bess did reign and this old hat was new.

The commons they are taken in and cottages pulled down,
Moll has got no wool to spin her linsey-wolsey gown;
The weather’s cold and clothing thin and blankets are but few,
But we were clothed both back and skin when this old hat was new.

When Romans in this land did reign, the commons they did give,
Unto the poor in charity to help them for to live;
But now the poor is quite done o’er, we know it to be true,
It was not so when Bess did reign and this old hat was new.

As the saying goes, nostalgia is not what it was... Even, it seems, in the seventeenth century. After all,  what did the Romans ever do for us?

It is not inevitably the case that things always get better, but somehow they do seem to, despite our best efforts to make things worse. It's salutary to remind ourselves of little things like the plague, witch hunts, religious wars lasting decades, gruesome public executions, surgery without anaesthetics, mass illiteracy, and, yes, even the quality of the graphic design of LP record sleeves, back when this old hat was new.

Besides, you could always get yourself a new hat, you miserable old git.

Typically awful 1970s LP sleeve for comedy folk duo The Tryptolites

(I wonder whatever happened to them?)