
Usually in this section I've broken down an album cover into various parts, examining aspects of its makeup and commenting on how they reflect on the recording, or how they contribute to the overall picture created by the sleeve. These writeups have on occasion been quite extensive. But not every great album cover can be so dissected, nor need it be. Sometimes the greatest effect can be achieved with the simplest of images. Consider the cover of Pink Floyd's “Dark side of the moon”. Iconic as it is, it's at its heart a simple graphic, and yet is instantly recognisable for what it is, and what it represents. Or take as another example the Beatles' “Abbey Road”. Or Springsteen's “Born in the USA”. Nirvana's “Nevermind”. There are a whole host of albums that make use of the simplest ideas to convey their message, and manage to stick in our minds as forever identifiable.
No. 6: “Famous last words” by Supertramp

The cover I want to look at here is not only one of my favourite Supertramp albums, but it tells a tale, through the medium of the artwork, that is both simple and informative, telling us a lot more about the album than we would otherwise know. Of course, for that to work properly, we do have to realise the changing dynamic of the band, the upheaval about to take placeat the time.
This was the last album to feature founder member Roger Hodgson. He and Rick Davies had been the principle songwriters in the band, and each had taken a turn at singing, Hodgson usually on the more upbeat, happy-style songs like “It's raining again”, “Breakfast in America” and “The logical song”: typically, the ones that became hits and therefore would be most recognisable to anyone outside of their fanbase. Essentially, Hodgson was the voice of Supertramp on the radio, and in the charts. Davies tackled the more “serious” songs, the likes of “Bloody well right”, “Crime of the century”, “Ain't nobody but me”, “From now on”; songs like those, that would probably be unknown to a non-Supertramp fan.
There's no question that the sound and indeed appeal of the band changed once Hodgson jumped ship, and Supertramp's next few albums were, to be honest, not the best. There was something missing from the overall makeup of the band, and it was obvious what it was. But despite what might be thought, there was no acrimony, either between himself and Davies or any of the rest of the band. Hodgson just reached a point where he wanted to stay where he was, the band were somewhere else and he did not wish to uproot his family to go back working with Supertramp. And so he left, to pursue a solo career.
The album sleeve then can be interpreted thus: the man on the tightrope can be Hodgson, striking out on his own and “working without a net”, aware of the yawning abyss should he fall, with the spotlight representing the pressures of fame, recording, touring and perhaps the entire band. The scissors about to cut the rope would then be his own decision taking charge, or the events overtaking him and forcing him into this decision. He could be seen as trying to perform a delicate and difficult balancing act, trying to keep his family and his career both uppermost in his priorities, but acutely aware that he must choose one over the other.
Or you can see the man on the highwire as being Davies, trying to carry out the same balancing act as Hodgson, with the scissors in this case representing his departing bandmate, who is quite literally about to cut his lifeline, and Davies worrying about how he will continue to entertain and please the crowd below him, who demand new output and more and better music, and perhaps even --- erroneously --- hold him responsible for the departure of the co-founder of the band.
Either way you look at it, the album cover presents a snapshot in time, with one man balanced precariously above a chasm that waits to swallow him. The scissors, whether they represent Davies or Hodgson, or a more, abstract force acting on one or both of them, are the focal point of the crisis (what crisis? Sorry...

) unfolding, and the soon-to-be-completed act of cutting the rope is unavoidable and inevitable.
Indeed, the back cover, simplicity itself, puts time back in motion and the man, whichever of the Supertramp members you choose to see him as, or even just a representation or metaphor, falls, the falling hat showing this clearly and unequivocally.
It's a perfect cover, a perfect moment in time captured, a snapshot of a critical moment that, although it could not be changed or avoided, irrevocably altered Supertramp and led to the end of an era, if not the end of the actual band. Supertramp were never the same after this, nor I suspect will they ever be.