Annie Clark (St. Vincent) has to be one of the cutest, skinniest people ever. That’s why when I first saw the album cover for her second album Actor, I thought to myself, “I’m glad she used a cropped headshot or else I would think there was a hair between the plastic and the paper.” Bad joke? It’s the best I’ve got, especially since I really have nothing bad to say about this jacket. If you’ve had a chance to listen to Actor, then you would probably be able to see a pretty clear correlation between the album’s experimental melodic implementation juxtaposed to a series of dark, gloomy lyrics. On the crust, her music appears light and fluffy, yet the inside gets gooier and thicker the deeper you fork.
On the surface, this cover may seem like it’s just another screen grab from your favorite horrible-seventies-satin-shirts-and-Technicolor-background website (you know there’s at least one out there). But when I look deeper into the photograph and begin to really examine it, I can’t help but feel a sense of despondence in her face. Maybe because she’s heartbroken? Maybe because she’s not in Williamsburg anymore? Maybe because she’s wearing that shirt? Okay, maybe I did have one thing bad to say.
Nevertheless, this hopelessness that is so blankly wiped across her high cheekbones and kinky-bobbed haircut presents itself as an awakening to the greater truth in life. Her face is looking toward the light that ever so slightly highlights her face. It’s either that or the shitty JPEG I’m looking at from the net. However, I’ll go with the former and say that, like the substance of the album itself, there are more layers than you think to this little onion of a photo.
Actor may present a pleasant girl from Oklahoma with a beautiful voice, high cheekbones and a kinky-bobbed haircut, but this is one has a very dark secret to keep.
photo courtesy of Amazon.com
