deSIGNER DESERT ISLAND DISCS//
About Matt Baxter//
Having learned a thing or two during 30 years working for some of the UK’s most highly rated creative agencies, I bring all of that experience to Baxter & Bailey. We're a brand and digital-focussed design agency making work that has a positive impact for clients we admire. (LinkedIn)
Having learned a thing or two during 30 years working for some of the UK’s most highly rated creative agencies, I bring all of that experience to Baxter & Bailey. We're a brand and digital-focussed design agency making work that has a positive impact for clients we admire. (LinkedIn)
Top 5 songs to take to the island//
The Cedar Room - Doves
Gorgeous, heartfelt, soaring loveliness from the Mancunian indie grafters. It’s both sad and uplifting, in a way that Doves do better than almost anyone. Taken from their first, peerless album Lost Souls and – to my ears at least – still timeless and out of time.
Here Comes Your Man - Pixies
My favourite band. I'm pretty confident I’ve seen them play more than any other performer. I love their quiet, bassy bits. I love their loud, screamy bits. This was the first dance at my wedding in 2010. Luckily my wife Katy loves them, too.
Do You Realize?? - Flaming Lips
Existential lyrics, bubblegum melodies, maximalist production, two question marks, makes everyone cry, became the official state song of Oklahoma, is accompanied live by more confetti than seems plausible or, indeed, advisable.
Rock Lobster - B52s
As exercise is advisable at my age, I’m going to need something to dance to on this here desert island. And what better for dancing on desert islands than this wildlife name-checking gonzo dancepop banger? I’m going for the album version, natch: surely seven minutes is the perfect workout window.
Sloop John B - The Beach Boys
With the B52s taking care of the clamshells and narwhals, we need someone to cover the surfing. Take a bow Dennis Wilson, the only actual surfer in surf-centric pop legends The Beach Boys. The album this harmonic wonder came from, Pet Sounds, is also a strong contender for my favourite record sleeve, featuring as it does tightly set Cooper Black and a frankly bonkers band shot.
First song / album you purchased//
The Return of the Jedi Original Soundtrack Album - John Williams/LSO
The first album purchased with my own money was The Return of the Jedi Original Soundtrack Album, composed and conducted by John Williams and performed by the London Symphony Orchestra (who eventually became clients). Released in 1983, I bought my copy on vinyl from the gloomy music corner of WHSmiths (RIP) in Burnley town centre. I was, like many children of the 70s, very into Star Wars and all of its sundry products, toys and ephemera. In a pre-video age, a soundtrack album was an excellent way to re-live a film you couldn’t easily watch again.
A song for our inevitable demise//
Caravan of Love – The Housemartins
There is often a point during the course of events at parties and kitchen discos at my house that we all sing Caravan of Love, as covered by The Housemartins. It has become part of the expected order of events. It’s my own fault. I once – possibly slightly worse for wear – stood on a chair and encouraged a gang of similarly refreshed friends to sing along. If this were to be played at my very final party, at least I could be sure of some collective singing by the wrinkled old mourners.
A guilty pleasure//
Doctor Worm – They Might Be Giants
I’m too old to believe in guilty pleasures: like what you like, for goodness sake (so long as you’re not hurting anyone in the process, obvs). However, my wife finds my life-long devotion to the brilliant They Might Be Giants somewhat baffling. Which means I do feel guilty playing them when she’s around. Their song Doctor Worm is perhaps TMBG at their most acutely them, meaning it’d make me feel the guiltiest, should she hear it. still a pleasure, though.
Your favourite record sleeve design//
Ladies and Gentlemen We Are Floating In Space – Spiritualized
For a designer who knows the power of taste and restraint, Mark Farrow’s CD packaging for Spiritualized’s 1997 album Ladies and Gentlemen We Are Floating In Space is ridiculously, brilliantly over the top. As you might expect for this band of drug-munching, orchestral indie pioneers, the box itself is a faithful facsimile of a prescription pill package: all one-colour, frill-free, pragmatic information design. But hiding within – Farrow’s OTT masterstroke – is a cartoonishly oversized, foil-sealed plastic pill tray containing the CD itself. Mad. Ambitious. Like the extra route you don’t think the client will go for. And the big question for nerdy music design collectors: should you pop the CD pill, or keep the magic sealed inside?
The Cedar Room - Doves
Gorgeous, heartfelt, soaring loveliness from the Mancunian indie grafters. It’s both sad and uplifting, in a way that Doves do better than almost anyone. Taken from their first, peerless album Lost Souls and – to my ears at least – still timeless and out of time.
Here Comes Your Man - Pixies
My favourite band. I'm pretty confident I’ve seen them play more than any other performer. I love their quiet, bassy bits. I love their loud, screamy bits. This was the first dance at my wedding in 2010. Luckily my wife Katy loves them, too.
Do You Realize?? - Flaming Lips
Existential lyrics, bubblegum melodies, maximalist production, two question marks, makes everyone cry, became the official state song of Oklahoma, is accompanied live by more confetti than seems plausible or, indeed, advisable.
Rock Lobster - B52s
As exercise is advisable at my age, I’m going to need something to dance to on this here desert island. And what better for dancing on desert islands than this wildlife name-checking gonzo dancepop banger? I’m going for the album version, natch: surely seven minutes is the perfect workout window.
Sloop John B - The Beach Boys
With the B52s taking care of the clamshells and narwhals, we need someone to cover the surfing. Take a bow Dennis Wilson, the only actual surfer in surf-centric pop legends The Beach Boys. The album this harmonic wonder came from, Pet Sounds, is also a strong contender for my favourite record sleeve, featuring as it does tightly set Cooper Black and a frankly bonkers band shot.
First song / album you purchased//
The Return of the Jedi Original Soundtrack Album - John Williams/LSO
The first album purchased with my own money was The Return of the Jedi Original Soundtrack Album, composed and conducted by John Williams and performed by the London Symphony Orchestra (who eventually became clients). Released in 1983, I bought my copy on vinyl from the gloomy music corner of WHSmiths (RIP) in Burnley town centre. I was, like many children of the 70s, very into Star Wars and all of its sundry products, toys and ephemera. In a pre-video age, a soundtrack album was an excellent way to re-live a film you couldn’t easily watch again.
A song for our inevitable demise//
Caravan of Love – The Housemartins
There is often a point during the course of events at parties and kitchen discos at my house that we all sing Caravan of Love, as covered by The Housemartins. It has become part of the expected order of events. It’s my own fault. I once – possibly slightly worse for wear – stood on a chair and encouraged a gang of similarly refreshed friends to sing along. If this were to be played at my very final party, at least I could be sure of some collective singing by the wrinkled old mourners.
A guilty pleasure//
Doctor Worm – They Might Be Giants
I’m too old to believe in guilty pleasures: like what you like, for goodness sake (so long as you’re not hurting anyone in the process, obvs). However, my wife finds my life-long devotion to the brilliant They Might Be Giants somewhat baffling. Which means I do feel guilty playing them when she’s around. Their song Doctor Worm is perhaps TMBG at their most acutely them, meaning it’d make me feel the guiltiest, should she hear it. still a pleasure, though.
Your favourite record sleeve design//
Ladies and Gentlemen We Are Floating In Space – Spiritualized
For a designer who knows the power of taste and restraint, Mark Farrow’s CD packaging for Spiritualized’s 1997 album Ladies and Gentlemen We Are Floating In Space is ridiculously, brilliantly over the top. As you might expect for this band of drug-munching, orchestral indie pioneers, the box itself is a faithful facsimile of a prescription pill package: all one-colour, frill-free, pragmatic information design. But hiding within – Farrow’s OTT masterstroke – is a cartoonishly oversized, foil-sealed plastic pill tray containing the CD itself. Mad. Ambitious. Like the extra route you don’t think the client will go for. And the big question for nerdy music design collectors: should you pop the CD pill, or keep the magic sealed inside?
