It’s been a little while since I visited this topic. Some of you (all five of you) from the older board might remember that I explored this subject once before, wherein I mostly made fun of Judas Priest album covers.

Why did I think that this topic needs revisiting? Well, mostly because I was bored and wanted something to laugh at, and doing the last article brought me some measure of joy, so I decided to repeat it. Also, because I’ve got some other logs going on, but I figured that I had better put something out there, otherwise LG might fire me, and I really don’t want to miss out on my lovely paycheck of stale marshmallows and torn-out pages of actresses featured in twenty-year-old TV Guides.

So here is something. Mil, quit bugging me. I’ll get a better log up about the same time that Leo comes back.

Apoctalyptica, Worlds Collide:

“And lo, the LORD did call upon the Cello of Death. And the Cello of Death passed over all of the houses of Egypt, and for those that were not marked with the blood of the LAMB the Cello of Death took the first-born child.”

“And ye, though I walk through the Valley of the Cello of Death . . .”

Crematory, Pray:

Oh, come on. The graphic designer isn’t even trying. Talk about being literal.

Hammerfall,

One Crimson Knight.

Time for standardized English test fun! If World of Warcraft is to Dragonforce covers, then Guild Wars is to _______ covers.

Helloween, Rabbit Don’t Come Easy.

I’m not sure what this has to do with the album content because there aren’t any songs about magicians or rabbits, but a cyborg magician pulling an evil rabbit out of hat could only be made better if Christinia Scabbia and Kate Beckinsale in thongs were involved.

Iced Earth, The Crucible of Man:

“MUMM-RA LIVES!”

Iron Maiden, Somewhere Back in Time:

I don’t know where to begin with this one, other than metallers must think that Egypt was one happening place.

Job for a Cowboy, Death EP:

I suppose this should be ironic or disturbing, but I can only think about AIG and GM CEOs when I see this cover now.

Lacrimosa, Fassade

:

I was talking to one of my coworkers the other day. This kid is new, right out of college, and our discussion eventually turned to music. It was obvious that college had done rotten things to him, because the following wisdom soon followed:

“I love music. All music is art.”

“Some music is shit,” I responded.

“Only to some people.”

“Good. To me, Britney Spears is shit,” I said.

“Maybe from your perspective, to somebody else it could be deep and meaningful.”

“Dude, it’s a song about getting plowed. And not everything can be art, because if everything was art, then what good would real art be? We’d be holding Michelangelo to the same standard as X-Files reruns.”

Silence reigned.

I imagine that this cover was made by people who share a similar mindset. We go from something that doesn’t need to be meaningful to something that tries too hard to affix some false sense of superiority to itself, and the result is that it makes no fucking sense and is fun to laugh at.

Lacuna Coil: Shallow Life:

What the hell happened here? Did Tiffany & Co and Raytheon have a merger that I missed?

Mastodon: Crack the Skye:

I’m not quite sure why Lo Pan is angry with that bear.

Nightwish: Ocean Born:



Before I get to ragging on this piece of artwork, allow me to share to an antecedent.

My Grandfather is a quarter Sioux. He is intensely proud of this, and will regale me with all sorts of tidbits of our family’s history every time I go to visit him. Unfortunately, my Grandfather was not raised as a Sioux. He grew up in a white household who had nothing to do with the Sioux tribe, so the only relation that my grandfather has to his Indian heritage is really that which he’s given himself. This means that he will buy anything with features Native Americans, even if they aren’t from the Sioux tribe—I’m talking about those terrible pictures that you can pick up at an interstate pitstop for $20. Lots of stern-faced Indians staring into the horizon while a wolf howls at the moon, things like that.

This looks like something my Grandfather would hang on his wall.

I’m sorry, Grandpa.

Old Man’s Child: Born of the Flickering:



This is what happens when you’re out of money and only have Google Image Search and amateur Photoshop skills at your disposal.

Type O Negative: Dead Again:

Oh, come on. Of all the things that they could have done with this, they just tinted a picture of Rasputin green and called it good? Talk about a lack of effort. Let’s see if I can do better:

Unsun: The End of Life:

To me, my X-Men!