And then there was Virgin (and it's sister label Caroline). Before this label became the multi-national conglomerate it is today, it was characterized first by it's logo — a semi naked hippie chick lying crosslegged — and then by it's glossy fold-out album jackets featuring ambient synthesizer music by artists like Tangerine Dream.

The whole package here simply screamed out it's importance. Walking into a record shop, you simply couldn't ignore it.

Later on, punk labels also picked up on this.

Stiff Records in particular had this down to a science. They already had some great, marketable artists like Nick Lowe and Ian Dury. But when they put together the whole Live Stiffs concept, they made you at least curious enough to check out somebody like Wreckless Eric.

More importantly, they made the record consuming public — or at least that small, but taste-making segment of it — buy into the idea that the label itself might be as important as the artists themselves.

When grunge came along in Seattle, SubPop Records was another label that figured this out. Pick any random SubPop release from the early nineties — be it from Soundgarden, Nirvana, or Mudhoney — and you will likely find that black and white photograph on the cover of a chaotic live club scene with the lead singer's hair flailing about wildly. It totally communicates what lies within — and again it does so before you have heard a note, sending a message that this is some important shit. A secret you could be let in on, simply by buying one of these records.

So I've got a way to go with what I hear so far from Beta-lactam Ring Records.  But I will tell you this. I like what I hear so far. And they have definitely got my attention.