Investigation

The naming and framing of an album is an underrated marketing tool. Whichever Paul McCartney/Wings LP of the 1970s is your particular favourite, ask someone to name one of the ex-Beatle's albums from that era and the chances are high they will pick Band On The Run.

The resurgence in vinyl sales over recent years is not just about the sound emitted from those shiny black grooves. Many buyers, particularly younger ones, are just as attracted to album sleeves. And of those, a good proportion will tell you they like to have the full-fat LP package experience sat on their shelves unspoilt by actual plays, or even framed on their walls as artworks.

The artist formerly known as Robert Zimmerman broke new ground in all kinds of ways. But one field where his pioneering role isn't often acknowledged is sleeve art. By the early 1970s, it was standard practice for fans to pore over LP covers pondering the significance of the imagery presented to them. But in 1965 the profundity of most popular music album artwork didn't extend much further than a shot of the band looking mean and moody, or happy and playful depending on the image they'd chosen to portray.

If you want to go to a fancy dress party as a rock star, there are plenty of different ways that you could 'do' David Bowie. But probably the easiest would be to paint a red, blue and silver lightning flash over your right eye. Kapow! Instant Bowie. Fancy paying tribute to the great man on your Facebook profile? A lightning flash should do the trick. You might even get away without dying your hair red or growing a mullet.

The '70s had no shortage of puzzling LP sleeve imagery. But if the image that adorned Fleetwood Mac's 1977 album Rumours was among the more perverse and baffling, that might have been because the band that made it had been driven to the edge of sanity while doing so.

The '60s were coming to a messy, slightly bitter end, and so were Frank Zappa's The Mothers Of Invention. Deep in debt after six studio albums and fed up with paying the wages of a nine-piece band who didn't always seem to be fully on board with his creative vision, Zappa was starting to become disillusioned.

As with my list of Top 20 CDs [HFN Feb '21], choosing 20 LPs from my collection of around 12,000 is tough. But there is one rule I stick to, no matter what: I do not listen to LPs for their sonic worth alone. With this selection, each is a release I cherish, and though my logic for choosing these 20 may be shaky, here goes...