Where The Insects Run The Show

Bequeathed by Mr R Erickson
West Ryder Pauper Lunatic Asylum

Look at this jumble of bugs. Imagine opening a drawer to find this little lot. There appears to be an assortment of butterflies, moths, beetles and dragonflies. Even though they're dead and encased behind glass, they'd likely make your skin crawl if you weren't a fan of insects. With their rich colours, this array could effectively blend with a littering of Autumn leaves on the ground. The patterns and eyespots, what are they saying? What do they say to you?

There's not enough recognition for the incredible and enlightening societies of the insect world, I think it's a great shame. Individually we can learn a lot by observing, studying or researching them. There are over one million different species of insects - compared to just the one human species.

The image is from the inlay of Kasabian's third album West Ryder Pauper Lunatic Asylum, an album I'm really fond of for its concept, style, art, lyrical content, overall comprehensive sound and the mystical nature of certain tracks especially. It's like all the great 'psych' films rolled into one and put to music, turned into a soundtrack. If the walls of an old asylum would speak, these recordings are what we'd hear. The album is residual energy. It's like a collage of male and female eyes all fluttering in their own times and bathed in sunshine, moonlight, shadows and smeared mascara... a cluster of headaches, desperate voices and sensual whispers curling in the air... all of these racing thoughts and feelings, flights of fancy... passionate, romantic, misunderstood, forsaken, nostalgic, poignant, idealistic, restless, delirious, neurotic, esoteric, blissful, grandiose, indestructible... sexual tension, fevers, cold lightning, warm rain... English rose bleeding against a white picket fence... golden meadows, high kites, dandelion wishes... summer days where dreams run into reality in the disorienting heat... long summer nights with no definite end in sight...

This is how I'd begin to describe what the music does for me. As a work of art it has been deeply affecting. For me there's no doubt in my mind that this is a summer record. The photo of the dead insects has a vibe about it as if autumn is drawing in, but they've been in the glass case for years and years, the change of season is always coming, never settling. The insects are preserved, that is, in permanent stasis. I think it's suitable, fitting for the concept, and it's the centre of the inlay. I've not found any posts on the internet giving appreciation on this, only a piece of information about the plaque below the insects (which is supposedly a reference to Roky Erickson of the 13th Floor Elevators). Although I see it as art - and that is its purpose in the booklet - I guess it's a collection from a museum. It's incredible, so I just wanted to share it. Isn't that part of the beauty of physical copies of albums? The artwork, the layout, the background. Brings another perspective, the visual aspect to further bring alive the themes present within the songs...