Sub-genralise this!

I'm a huge fan of Radio 6. The great thing about it as a digital platform station is it doesn't need to follow the repetitive patterns and procedures of other radio broadcasters. Instead of plugging the latest commercial track of some random diamond-spattered "kooky" artist who auto-tuned it, so much, you'll know them personally by the day's end, the DJs sift through archives and archives of music history and pluck out the gems that shaped much of contemporary music, and the reputable current tracks spawned from such classics.

My foible isn't with Radio 6, it's with the shape of the music industry now. Steve Lamacq, Radio 6 DJ, casually throwing out the genre folktronica in association with Beth Orton, frustrated me slightly. Not because she isn't a folktronica artist (apparently she is), but because I couldn't successfully establish the difference between folktronica and electrofolk, or understand how I would describe to an acquaintance at a party what to expect when listening to either genre without sounding in the least bit pretentious, and immediately finding myself in a must-find-someone-else-to-alienate scenario.

Do we need sub-sub-sub-genres to categorise the music we enjoy? Surely music genres exist to enable us to easily locate the sort of sounds we could progress onto from our current life soundtracks, or to share simply with other people of a similar harmonic disposition.

And so, my new challenge is to see how sub-genralisation might work...introducing the folktronica typeface first. Classic western folk meets electronica fluorescent tubing!

That Infamous Shower Scene!

Visiting London recently, I was heavily considering working my way through the train journey, until I realised how incredibly uninviting that idea was. So, dipping into an unnamed music store with its inviting piles of DVDs and CDs strewn everywhere (the modern shopping experience, how charming), I came across Psycho at a steal - I still can't get over the fact it was censored as a 15 (taking into consideration the numerous heart palpitation episodes that come as a standard with every viewing)?!

Hitchcock's 1960 effort is to me, and probably many many others, one of the finest movies ever made. The director, the Herrmann score, the leading lady (Leigh), the Bass opening credits, the defining role of Perkins. Not simply one element has ensured this film has gone down in history as an all time great.

From a design perspective, with Saul Bass' iconic opening credits setting the tense, sharp tone for a watching experience that never lets you settle, what more could a creative ask for. So incredibly understated, and yet encompassing the film's mood without fuss. From then, the violins and dialogue take over, and Perkins' stuttering, shy, shockingly psychotic Bates arrives from behind the motelier's desk to carry the viewer through to the closing credits.

As a perfect example of the changing values in society, the film itself stands up and argues its cause; the candid camera documentation of real life, extramarital relationships particularly, ensures Hitchcock casually breaks a few conservative taboos, along with the untrodden path of human psychoanalysis, the exploration of that monster inside of us.

That infamous shower scene, the worst plot spoiler in cinematic history? Better the devil you know, that way you can prepare those fingers to view cringingly through!

WARNING: listen with headphones on!

The Art Of Getting By. A tongue-firmly-in-cheeky project.

Probably the best place to start would be with the project that spawned the blog...

Since stepping onto the first professional rung and feeling the pain of daily 6.30am alarm clocks that the university lecturers definitely didn't warn about, my personal creative development has been sandwiched in amongst the important tasks of trying not to develop sedentary-occupation glutes, trying not to look like a social introvert, and trying not to screw up with my retailer portfolio responsibilities.

Having slowly engineered a clutter of personal projects to be proud of to set me off towards the next rung, it was important to finally showcase these. In order to promote both the technical skill-set I have developed in my time as a professional, managing the artworking process through to manufacturing for hundreds of clients both small and large, and the creative approach I have nurtured in my design work since I first set my heart on this path at the age of nine after receiving possibly the world's most violent looking Super Soaker off my cool advertising uncle, I decided the best way to do this was to challenge my copywriting skills to combine the two, and hopefully show off my personality in the process.

The result...

A book describing the essential tools for every Artworker to make their lives that little bit easier when faced with troublesome files...but obviously the tools described don't exist, otherwise where's the fun. The book was created using a minimalist approach to avoid drawing away from the tongue-in-cheek content, with the print layout marks on display throughout enforcing the "seriousness" of the book as an Artworker's essential. Just to get the right point across, I threw a few of my favourite personal projects in there too.

To further emphasise the project's focus, the book's title, The Art Of Getting By, offers a witty play on all three core elements involved; the profession, design, and copywriting.

The projects I wanted to showcase were the result of a full-time corporate design role forcing me to evaluate the sort of design that makes me tick, so the promotional product needed to shout this...which I believe I accomplished...playfully.