English Version | Would you buy a record just for the cover?

Yes, of course. I mean, it depends on the cover. For instance, these ones over here are a no brainer. What makes an album cover legendary? There are no right answers. We know that the design has to be impeccable, that the photography, in case it exists, has to be unique and, at the same time, timeless, and that the lettering has to be catchy (catchy but polished, underline, because there is a whole compendium of typographies, and of slogans, which are forbidden in the eyes of the most purists) enough to please everyone. In short, it has to define, and reflect, not just a style of music, but an era. A good example? Taylor Swift's 1989 album, released in 2014, which appears recurrently on all lists of "best album covers of all time." The cover of the said album is nothing less than a Polaroid of the singer — precisely cut in the nose area, something common in ancient art, and which Swift justified as something "accidental" that occurred during the production process of the album, of which all photos “for posterity” were taken in Polaroid format. The artist told the American chain ABC: "So I figured why not make that photo the album cover?" Truth or consequence, what is certain is that the myth was created and, currently, 1989 is considered a small work of art. It may not be compared to those that give life to the pages that follow, but the beauty of things is in the eyes of the beholder. It is not possible to make a musical best off without including The Beatles, whatever the angle. In this case, it was irreverence and the vision of the covers of four of their albums that put them on the podium. From top to bottom, left to right: Released as the soundtrack to an animated film that had premiered shortly before, Yellow Submarine (1969) did not claim to be a “major release”, as the band's website reads, but it was a success. The magic of Heinz Edelmann, the multifaceted graphic designer who created the album cover, certainly contributed to this as well. There shouldn't be many people on the planet who don't recognize the photo used on Abbey Road's vinyl (1969), taken a few meters from the studio of the same name, where the album was recorded. Plot twist: In those crazy 60s, many Beatles fanatics swore on their feet that Paul McCartney was, in fact, dead, and had been replaced by a dopplegänger. And that moment, copied to exhaustion, which elevated the act of crossing a crosswalk to something fantastic, was seen by millions of people as... a funeral procession. Less morbid, but equally interesting, is the story behind the cover of Revolver (1966), designed by artist Klaus Voorman, a longtime friend of the band. He is said to have heard Tomorrow Never Knows before scribbling the first sketches of what would become an iconic and utterly avant-garde image. Lastly, Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band, from 1967. It's the most-than-perfect summary of 60s psychedelicism. The cover was designed by artists Peter Blake and Jann Haworth, and contains a crowd of people (in addition to the fab four), including Marilyn Monroe, Karl Marx, Bob Dylan or Sigmund Freud. Possibly the most famous cover of all time? Possibly. If every band had a debut like The Velvet Underground & Nico, eternity would be guaranteed to them. However, this rarely happens. Their debut album came out in 1967 and was called, precisely, The Velvet Underground & Nico. It was the partnership with Andy Warhol that gave it an extra stamp, that banana on a white background (original name, Peel Slowly And See) that became a symbol not only of that one, but of all generations. Top left: Their Satanic Majesties Request (1967) was The Rolling Stones' response to Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band. The similarities are obvious, but here, the cover, designed by Michael Cooper, has a plus: it's in 3D. But let's leave the “who did it better” aside. Both are brutal. Below: Some say that Elvis Presley did not invent anything, that he only appropriated rock and roll, but just look at the cover of this eponymous album, released in 1956, which shows the singer during a performance in Florida, United States, in 1951, to realize that The King had something special. Not to mention the (now) famous lettering combination, unusual for the time — pink and green — that The Clash would eventually reproduce in their album London Calling (1979). It's still Ziggy Stardust, but it's no longer Ziggy Stardust. The picture taken by Brian Duffy for the cover of Aladdin Sane (1973) shows a more mysterious, more introspective David Bowie — the “tear” that was added to the singer's collarbone in post-production helps make that sense. It's a transitional album, a wake-up call from the most chameleon-like artist of all time. Note that the disc title is a pun with the expression “a lad insane”. Top right: Never Mind the Bollocks, Here's The Sex Pistols. In 1977 the UK stopped, all because the Sex Pistols released an album in which the word “bollocks” appeared on the cover and, soon after, a single, entitled God Save The Queen, rebelled against the conformism of the British society and its submission to the crown. The most responsible for the sururu was Jamie Reid, who did the artwork for the album, following to the letter the idea of ​​Malcolm McClaren, the Pistols agent: "We invented the ugliest cover we could imagine." Ugly? We prefer "fabulous." Center: It had everything to go right. And gave. British design group Hipgnosis, led by Storm Thorgerson and Aubrey Powel, had the idea of ​​creating a prism that would refract light into six of the seven colors in the spectrum. The concept was executed by George Hardie and thus was born the iconic cover of Pink Floyd's The Dark Side Of The Moon, which leapt from 1973 into the future. Below: Let's forget, for a moment, the magnificent poetry of Patti Smith and its unmistakable timbre, and focus on the photograph that illustrates Horses (1975). Taken by Robert Mapplethorpe, with whom the singer had a relationship for years, it was considered by critic and essayist Camille Paglia as one of the most beautiful portraits of a woman. Since it is practically impossible to count the number of iconic photos starring Grace Jones — singer, model, actress, songwriter — one thing is certain: among them will have to be the cover of Island Life (1985), photographed by her then-partner, the irreverent and genius Jean-Paul Goude, who immortalized the artist as a sculpture from which we can't look away. Top: Now it may seem like the most banal image ever, but at the time it was a minor scandal. Annie Leibovitz photographed Bruce Springsteen from the back, wearing jeans, a white t-shirt, and “that red cap” in the back pocket of his pants against what appeared to be an American flag in the background. It made sense, since the album, released in 1984, was called Born In The USA. Unfortunately, there were those who suggested such macabre things as... well, you better Google it to believe it. Below: U2's third studio album, War (1983) is considered the Irish band's first “overtly political” work. In addition to the title, the cover of the album is, in itself, a declaration of intent. At the height of the conflict in Northern Ireland, a photograph of an enraged young man, bulging eyes, split lip, went viral. Peter Rowen, the young man in question, had already starred on the covers of the singles I Will Follow or Three. In War, leaning against a brick wall, he seems to have lost his innocence. Many thought Nirvana were looking for fame and money, at the expense of that dollar that appears on the cover of Nevermind (1991), what they didn't know was that this photo exists, instead, because of Kurt Cobain's fascination with birth underwater — if you don't believe it, jump into In Utero (1993) and see that the theme repeats itself. The baby? His name is Spencer Elden and, in February, he turned 30 years old. It is possible that those responsible for Expo'98 [an internation exhibition that happened in Lisbon] were inspired by the aesthetics of this disc to make the video to promote the exhibition, but that is not called for here. Top: Mellon Collie And The Infinite Sadness (1995) would always be a masterpiece, with or without a major album cover. But it had it. The image, in Victorian style, was made by John Craig, former designer of Mercury Records, who joined the body of a painting of Saint Catherine of Alexandria, by the Italian master Rafael, with the face present in a painting by Jean-Baptiste Greuze entitled The Souvenir (Fidelity), to create the woman with a lost gaze in a heavenly sky, which remains as impressive as it was 26 years ago. Below: Honey, Find my Baby, Why does my heart feel so bad?, Porcelain. The list could go on, there are so many great songs taken from Play (1999). If the world ended at the beginning of the new millennium, it would at least end with a soundtrack to match: Moby gave us a dream album, which will hardly be repeated — the photograph that gives life to the cover, that one will hardly ever happen as well. It was the first work, together, of the great Corinne Day and her husband, director Mark Szaszy. Day, one of the most respected fashion photographers, died in 2010. Kala (2007) was the second album by M.I.A. and, like the first one, its cover has everyone talking about it. The artwork, inspired by African art, was made by Steve Loveridge, and contains a series of repeated patterns and slogans, to which are added photographs of the singer. The unusual colors chosen led The Village Voice to write: "Maybe one day [she] will make a cover that doesn't hurt the eye." We agree to disagree. Top: It could be Funeral (2004). Or even Everything Now (2017). But, being forced to choose, the option falls to Neon Bible, that musical wonder that Arcade Fire offered us in 2007. The album cover consists of a photograph of a six-foot-long neon sign that the band commissioned to use during the tour. In the image, the Bible is illuminated as if it were unfolded. François Miron and Tracy Maurice, responsible for the artwork, would eventually win the Juno Award for CD/DVD Artwork Design of the Year. Center: And now for something completely different... Stories from the City, Stories from the Sea, by PJ Harvey (2000). Not as abruptly impactful as others, aesthetically speaking, the English singer's album was met with applause both by critics — Rolling Stone considered it the best album of Miss Harvey's career — and by the public. Besides being a "love letter to New York." The cover photo shows just that: the artist in the middle of the big apple night hustle, captured by Maria Mochnacz. Below: The now-defunct Daft Punk released Discovery in 2001. To say it was a hit is redundant, and rating their cover as being “better” or “worse” than any other in their portfolio is risky. In any case, it is a tribute to this memorable record, and to the work of Japanese artist Leiji Matsumoto, who has worked with the band on several occasions. It is reported that the Internet “exploded” when the first images of Dirty Computer (2018) came out. This was a different, more risky Janelle Monáe, who seemed to rise up behind a veil of crystals against a richly colored background. The concept and design belong to Joe Perez, the photography was in charge of JUCO (Julia Galdo and Cody Cloud). Top: There is little to add to everything that has already been said about Lemonade, the masterpiece with which Beyoncé stunned the world in 2016. More than just a record, it's a manifesto, accompanied by a 65 minute movie. In any case, what interests us here is the cover - the singer appears leaning against a car, in a fur coat, braids, with her face hidden. The photo was taken during the filming of the music video for Don't Hurt Yourself. Below: If You're Reading This It's Too Late is Drake's fourth album (official name is mixtape, although these are no longer made) released in February 2015. It sold nearly 500,000 copies in the first week, and that alone justifies its success, but beyond the musical criteria, it was the minimalist cover that caught the attention — the phrase the singer chose as the title quickly went viral and became one of the most used hashtags by a generation thirsty of symbolic messages. Translated from the original, as part of Vogue Portugal's Music Issue, published in june 2021.