totalcontent - the blog.

seventy not out.

Jim’s 70th ‘Private View’ column features in the latest issue of Design Week. That’s getting on for six years’ worth of commentary and opinion on the ways, wiles and wherefores of the design industry – delivered with a little spice and individuality. Previous efforts have included treatises on colour, naming, modernism, plagiarism, heroes, briefs, late payments, deadlines and toilets. They’ve tackled big questions and niggly little ones, they’ve praised and they’ve censured, but most of all we hope they’ve entertained. One effusive letter writer wanted to “embrace [Jim] as a brother”, another huffed about his “archaic way of thinking”… we’re just pleased to have got a reaction. Jim’s latest column is on puns, a subject particularly dear to his heart.

got it covered.

For those of us who like to judge a book by its cover, here’s a wry-yet-chirpy blog comparing and contrasting book cover design from around the world, along with suitably pithy commentary.

What’s really intriguing is the way different styles are adopted for different markets and how covers are refreshed from one edition to the next. But the real eye-opener is how your reaction is so easily manipulated, even before you’ve read a word. You can’t underestimate how a cover sets the tone for a book, or influences your frame of mind as you start delving into the writing.

Shown here, a new Faber & Faber edition of Paul Auster’s ‘New York Trilogy’ designed by the fabulously talented Jonathan Gray (who also did the ‘Common Ground’ cover for 26). And Art Spiegelman’s cover for the Penguin Deluxe Classics Edition of the same book. Get under the covers at www.thebookdesignreview.com.

that’s me in the corner.

Sorry. Bit of a hobby horse. Really enjoyed the Design Week Awards last week – they were slick, inspiring, and it was great to catch up with friends, clients and collaborators. There was also a truly worthy Best of Show winner in the Peezy, a funky urine sample device for women (really).

As if that wasn’t enough, work by totalcontent was up among the awards again (details in the ‘recently’ section if you’re interested). Not that anyone would have known. For some reason, copywriting is barely ever credited. At awards or on the finished article. Even when it’s totally central to the success of a project. Designers, photographers, illustrators, printers, even the paper stock gets a name check. But the poor old writer? It’s a perennial frustration, and I still can’t figure out why words get so little recognition. OK, you can come out now, moan over.

lightbulb moments.

It was a grand old night at the Design Week Awards yesterday, as two projects with copywriting input from totalcontent scooped top prizes in their categories. First up was the ‘Yellow Book’, by Applied Information Group. This slim volume is an overview of AIG’s Legible London pedestrian wayfinding system, featuring an extended essay by Jim describing the project, and delving into the theory and practice of urban wayfinding. The judges called it “a fantastic piece of work, sustained, informative, attractive and sensible”, and praised the “narrative which draws you in”. You can get hold of a pdf of the ‘Yellow Book’ in the downloads section of this web site.

Next was a spin-off from the 2008 Royal Mail Year Pack – designed by the Chase and written by Jim – which won the in-store branding and point of sale category. This cleverly stuck vinyl versions of the Year Pack’s motif (large white frames with perforated edges) on Post Office counter windows as if capturing the staff behind in a stamp.

as easy as A-B-C.

I’m not too sure about Alphabeat’s music, it’s a just a bit too unashamedly ‘pop’ for me. You might remember the inane but infectiously catchy ‘Boyfriend’ from last year. Even if you don’t, when I tell you that the Danish band’s influences are Wham! and Abba, you’ll get the picture. Having said that, the cover for their debut UK CD, ‘This is Alphabeat’, is a graphic designer’s wet dream. With echoes of Peter Blake, Victorian poster type and nursery building blocks, it’s colourful, quirky and nostalgic. Which begs two questions. Firstly, would you buy a CD on the strength of its cover art? And secondly, anyone out there know who designed this little beauty?

my word.

There’s something very reassuring about subscribing to a magazine. Particularly of the non-professional variety. Every month, there’s your old friend, waiting faithfully for you in the letterbox. My read of choice is ‘The Word’ magazine, a copiously awarded effort from music publishing stalwarts Mark Ellen and David Hepworth. Word has held the coveted ‘Music Magazine of the Year’ mantle for the past two years, but it’s far more than that… covering everything from books, comedy and movies, to quirky quandaries like which actor gave the most convincing portrayal of Hitler on celluloid. The ‘best and worst’ section is always achingly funny, the interviews and opinion pieces refreshingly lacking in puffery. Word may not be the best-designed magazine in the world, but it doesn’t need to be. It’s wonderfully written, witty and fizzing with character (even the publisher’s letter that comes in the plastic bag). Oh, and you get a cracking free CD of staff-picked tunes too.

spotify the difference.

OK, I’ll come clean. I have a bit of a CD habit. Well, a lot of a CD habit. I visit a music store in Leamington called Head (formerly Fopp) most weekends. The prices range from £2 for old stuff to £10 for chart stuff, which means temptation is never far away. But this may be about to change. Yesterday I read a piece in the Guardian about Spotify, a new online music delivery system which is completely free. You don’t get to ‘own’ the music, but you can just play what you want whenever you want. Which is as good as in my book. The Guardian called Spotify ‘a potentially life-changing experience’, and having played around with it for a day, I can see why. You can listen by genre, make playlists, search, shuffle, skip… anything you can do with iTunes except download. But best of all you can be adventurous – check out stuff you’d never normally listen to because you don’t have to pay a penny for it. Is there a catch? Well a very small one. Every 25 minutes you have to listen to a 30-second ad – but I can live with that. (And if you really can’t you can pay £9.99 a month for an ad-free service). I can see my laptop is going to be hooked up to my stereo system any day now and I won’t have to worry about drowning in a sea of CDs.

blown away.

We went to see the Blow Monkeys at Cox’s Yard, a small upstairs room above a pub in Stratford-upon-Avon last night. After an 18-year hiatus, all four original members are back together for a tour of small-venue gigs up and down the country to plug their new CD, ‘The Devil’s Tavern’. It was snowing and several degrees below zero, but there couldn’t have been more than 75 people in there. Deb last saw them in 1988 at the Roundhouse in London, playing to around 1,000. At Cox’s Yard, we were an arm’s length away. The once-chiselled Dr Robert had piled on quite a few pounds, and there was a suspicious degree of hat wearing among his fellow band members. But once they started playing, all sense of the poignancy of lost youth faded away. A tight four piece – each holding their own – they blasted through a set of old and new songs, with a surprisingly full style that stands up against the lush arrangements of their earlier studio offerings. Robert’s guitar work was a revelation, his tonsils have stood the test of time, and the BM’s soul-tinged pop still hits the spot. Yes, I’m still digging their scene – wouldn’t have missed it.

Gordon Bennett.

It’s been a bit of an Alan Bennett fest this week. I finally got round to watching ‘The History Boys’ on DVD and loved it, particularly the hilarious French lesson scene and the classic movie skits on ‘Now Voyager’ and ‘Brief Encounter’. I also polished off the short but very sweet ‘The Uncommon Reader’ and found the whole conceit of the Queen as a newly converted bookworm (despite staunch and virtually universal opposition by family, staff and even government), rather appealing. The sly digs at the unnamed Prime Minister about weapons of mass destruction lent this slim volume a bit of political edge, until it ends abruptly and entirely unexpectedly, with Her Maj dropping her own WMD to the gathered great and the good.