Chris & Cosey: Logo #283

This amalgam of sperm, king and egg was designed by Stephen Gilmore in 1984. Chris and Cosey go under the name Carter Tutti now; here's what I wrote in the L.A. Weekly after one 2005 live action: "Nostalgia is a bit like going to the dentist: past sensations are felt so acutely that their anticipation is nearly equals original sensation. So it is with Carter-Tutti, formerly Chris & Cosey, they of the previously submerged Throbbing Gristle until its recent revivification campaign – and what better space in which to play for these wreckers of civilization than a building whose reflective panels inflict sunburn in ten minutes for those standing before it? Slowed footage of children at the seaside and amusement parks segue into animated hands altered to resemble Kirlian photography by way of jewels and honey. Carter manipulates various inscrutable dials from his left-side laptop / mixing desk, scoring footage in which Cosey’s veiled head turns into a pomegranate. Her almost subliminal croon subsumes below the music, much of which is propelled by her gentle picking at an echoing guitar before occasional harmonica and trumpet blasts. There’s an overriding sense of revelation – from Carter’s unblinking eyes to the repeated images of wide-eyed children. Over time, naturally, revelation happens in one’s life in more gentle ways – for instance, under the idyllic gaze of Wozniak’s apple and the rapt applause of a literally full house rather than gallery-destroying milk-and-blood enemas."

Logo #253: Nine Inch Nails

The Nine Inch Nails logo was designed Trent Reznor and Gary Talpas in 1989. Ironically, it represents balance and order when Reznor's lyrics and themes present anything but a pastoral vale of clean lines and architecture.

Logo #227: Ministry

This riff on the anarchy symbol was designed for the most recent version of Ministry by the unholy troika of Jello Biafra, Al Jourgensen, and Lawton Outlaw in 2004. From my review of the Ministry live action at the House of Blues in Los Angeles on April 6 on their final tour before dissolution (so to speak), forthcoming in issue #50 of Signal to Noise, on newsstands near you: "This is another one for our idiot President!" Jourgensen cries. "It's called "No "W"!" He hangs from the chain-link, his voice become a long and plaintive shriek, the kind reserved only for those who fall from great heights. They're one of the most rhythmically gifted groups in all of pop music, even if they did admit to stealing ZZ Top's beats here and there, and myopia notwithstanding, it's extortionately difficult to believe that Al Jourgensen would give all this up. Rumor has it that he plans another Lard album, and possibly more Revolting Cocks albums. The disorientation that the lights bring is such that if one closes one's eyes, a whole other kind of dreaming happens. And yet one of the problems with this kind of rapid-fire depiction of disaster and calamity, playing out across the screen behind them as it does, is that it presents the impression that this is a constant, linear world of misfortune, all the time and at once everywhere. In reality, like the joke by Steven Wright about the place that's open 24 hours, these things do happen – just not in a row. There is an inherent loneliness to catastrophe that is difficult and undesirable to grasp. A tree falls in the forest. There's no one to hear it. That's rather the point, actually. " Conversely, "Die hard with a heart made of stone / you'll never see me 'cos I'm always alone" is one of the most brilliant stanzas ever written.