What is the point of self-titled albums?
I’ve conditioned myself to largely ignore Noel Gallagher‘s hot takes, but there was one recently that irked me in particular. He told a journalist that his daughter questioned why he spent a day doing a photoshoot for an album cover because she thought it was pointless spending so much time on a photo that existed in the bottom corner of your Spotify page.
Now, this is nonsense on two counts. First, his relatively well-known daughter has made an online career from being more artistically inclined than the average person, and is undoubtedly cultured enough to understand the gravitas of an album cover. Second, it feeds into this general idea that contemporary music fans aren’t as nuanced or appreciative as those of yesteryear.
After all, we are an aesthetically obsessed culture now. Albeit, largely focused on digital worlds, but we crave something interesting and fresh to stimulate our sight. And the marketing campaign of an album rollout is the epitome of that. Not only do we speculate over the story behind the cover with incessant detail, but we patiently wait for the title in the hopes it might just change our lives like the songs do.
Naturally, it feels like somewhat of a disappointment when the result is merely a self-titled album. Despite their obvious creative genius, some of the all-time greats have adopted this method—Crosby, Stills & Nash, The Doors and The Stone Roses, to simply name a few. And in the case of those three, the bland creative decision didn’t take anything away from the record’s success; they’re all undying classics in their own right.
So why do they do it? Well, in the case of these three bands and commonly, it’s to set out a defiant stall upon a debut album. Based on the success of the self-titled record, the band’s name will be affirmed within the history books of culture and ultimately allow to build a strong platform for their music to grow thereafter. It’s an uncomplicated and resolute marketing strategy that, for labels, hopefully doesn’t raise any questions that distract from the band and product.
That’s a general principle that can be reapplied to bands who self-title albums that aren’t their debut record. Used as a reset point or a symbol of returning to their artistic roots, the use of a self-titled album is a signpost for artists scrambling around in the creative swamps.
What are the greatest self-titled albums?
My general feelings of disappointment towards the concept of a self-titled album are quite ill-informed, since some of the most iconic albums of all time have adopted the approach. In more recent times, bands like The XX, Wet Leg and Vampire Weekend emerged onto the music scene with culturally impactful projects of their own.
However, few contemporary self-titled albums have matched some of the titans of years past. In the 1970s alone, we were treated to Fleetwood Mac, The Clash, Ramones, and Black Sabbath, while the 1960s unearthed gems like Led Zeppelin, The Velvet Underground & Nico, and The Stooges.
But what many would consider the greatest often slips through the cracks of understanding when analysing albums in this category. The Beatles’ 1986 double-sided epic is often referred to as The White Album for its minimalist aesthetic, but it was in fact their one and only self-titled record. Their tenth release was the longest and perhaps the purest, looking to bottle up the essence of good old-fashioned live recording and thus revisiting their Cavern Club roots.
“What we’re trying to do is rock ‘n roll, ‘with less of your philosorock’, is what we’re saying to ourselves. And get on with rocking because rockers is what we really are,” said John Lennon in 1968 while recording the album.
So, maybe there is method in the simplicity. But as a music fan who laps up every possible morsel of eccentricity I find, I much prefer the madness.
