I was recently gifted a Tame Impala vinyl. Currents is one of my favourites and an all-time classic. Despite not being a collector, I have always wanted to own two vinyls simply for the love that I have for the albums: Currents and Random Access Memories by Daft Punk. To be honest, it isn't limited to the emotional attachment I have to the music; I am obsessed with their album art as well. Going against the common rhetoric of not judging a book by its cover, I do the opposite. I judge a book by its cover and, even more, judge a song by its album art.
The artwork on album covers is crucial to me. While it's important for music to have its own feeling, I love how artists can immerse you in the world of an album even before you hit play.
A few of the obvious benefits of good album art for artists are marketing their work, building a brand image, and creating merchandise. Studies have shown that album covers can influence consumers' purchasing decisions. A compelling cover can entice someone to buy or stream an album, even if they are unfamiliar with the artist.
Apart from the obvious, musicians still have the freedom to express their music and themselves in an interesting visual way. Rihanna can be one of the biggest pop stars in the world and her album cover can simply be her as a little girl, with a crown over her eyes, covered in braille poetry. I admire the notion of paying attention to what most don't, and thinking about the details that go beyond the actual music-making process.
Once you finish an album, after putting years of your life into a body of work, how do you decide on one picture that encapsulates that entire thing?
For many artists, the cover is an opportunity to visually convey the themes, mood, or story of the album, enhancing the overall artistic message. It's a visual handshake between the artist and the listener, a prelude to the auditory experience. For example, the cover of To Pimp a Butterfly features a black-and-white photo of African-American boys and men celebrating in front of the White House with a judge at their feet. You can assume you're going to hear meaningful, deep, and probably provocative music, with songs centred around race, culture, and discrimination.
Frank Ocean's Blond, where you see a man crying in a shower, immediately gives the sense of "Oh, I am about to get emotionally wrecked." Another one of my absolute favourites is Pink Floyd's Burning Man artwork for Wish You Were Here, an expression of the band's disappointment and anger with the music industry, which also happens to be the theme of the songs on the album. Obviously the idea doesn't apply to every artist; Kanye's Donda has just a black square as the cover, while Beyoncé and the Beatles have used little more than their names on a flat square.
Some album art is so influential that it transcends the original intention of its creation and becomes an individual art piece of its own. Iconic album covers become ingrained in the public consciousness, often representing more than just the music: a particular era or movement. More and more people want to have a tangible reminder of what a song means to them, with vinyl being the most original and displayable product.
This isn't to say there aren't albums with great music but terrible artwork to go with it. As much as the two art forms are intertwined, they are also able to stand on their own, each evoking different emotions from their audience.
Personally, when I look at an album cover, it isn't just the colours and design that strike me, but the narrative it weaves visually. In an age where book covers, movie posters, and game posters can feel like marketing gimmicks, the content stands on its own once you get into it, almost as if reclaiming its authenticity. A movie poster doesn't necessarily affect the movie-watching experience, yet the music on an album can make a cover better and the cover can make the music feel better.
The best album covers feel like a doorway into a world. Once you've listened to the album, the memory of the artwork intrinsically moulds into the memory of the song, transporting you to the artist's vision.