The original presentation [left - Ed.] looks, well, sappy. Whatever they were, Paul n' Art were too testy and angsty, too New York, to be flower children, and this to-camera pose - pleading rather than introspective - does them no favors. Although it's a beautifully balanced composition, the solid black background works against the gentle, summery vibe of the photography. The font is is fussy, lifted from a Hallmark card, and the title?
It's waaay too long, and it's, well, sappy. Like a scented soap gift pack. And it's not the title of a song, either, but a line from Scarborough Fair/Canticle. Hard to say why they chose it, other than it being as sappy as the photograph, and while sap is embedded in S&G's DNA, it's by no means what they were selling on this album. This is where they - mostly - left Greenwich Village behind, and with Roy Halee's genius for startlingly original arrangements and crystalline sound, set out their stall as superlative musicians who just happened to be making pop music.
They didn't get hip to what impact a great cover can have until the next album. There are an infinite number of ways they could have gone for this one - my attempt [above top, just under heading - Ed.] uses a stretched and tinted Michael Ochs portrait. Rubber Soul had pioneered this kind of distortion, and it seems a more appropriate zeitgeit motif than a bunch of goddamn flowers. Canticle carries a liturgical sense, and I hope I've picked up the monkish vibe in the font. It is at least a suitably serious and reflective look, and Ochs' defining shot catches them separate and together, as they always were.
You likely have this already, but maybe you could give it another spin while staring blankly at the new look. Or not - I'm not your Mom.













