In the eye of the beholder

I still keep a healthy collection of old LPs. Nothing will induce me to part from them. Only, since it broke, I haven't got a record player. Because I am not a great champion for vinyl. I don't love records. I love record covers.

When I browse through my records now (mostly duplicated on CD anyway) it's to look rather than to listen. To enjoy again the rich red cover of my De Sabata Tosca, or the blinding light of Christ on Rattle's Mahler Second. Little CD covers may never really compete with the vast canvas of LPs, but they could try.

Remember wandering the aisles of music shops, your eye being caught by the sheer spectacle of record covers? When was the last time a CD cover - the artwork itself, I mean - caused you to stop and investigate? CD covers may be small but they can still be marvellously potent and a powerful marketing tool.

Most of this month's Editor's Choice covers are depressing. Look at the care the pop industry lavishes on CD covers. Then turn to, say, the deeply dull drawing of the Amsterdam Sinfonietta for their Beethoven and Walton disc - an electrifying recording, but you'd never guess. Worse is the cover of Bernard d'Ascoli's probing, unconventional account of the Chopin Nocturnes. There he sits, besuited and unsmiling, looking like he'd rather be anywhere else than at his piano.

One company, Chandos, unfailingly gets it right. Look at the beautiful array of characters on their recent William Alwyn disc, or the mouse against a background of outrageous orange for The Love for Three Oranges.

Does it have an impact on sales? It must do, or at the very least reinforce a perception that classical music recordings are still vital 'events'. More recording companies should use their covers wisely - if the shift from high-street shops to downloading really gains speed, it's an asset that may soon be lost altogether.

james.inverne@haynet.com