 This video is brought to you by CuriosityStream. If you sign up to CuriosityStream with the link in the description, you'll also get access to Nebula, where you can watch all of my videos early and ad-free, and you can be among the first to watch my new project, Wish You Were Here, an album companion, which is available in full on Nebula right now. More on that after the video, and if you think I'm cool and or interesting, you should maybe subscribe, I guess. I've got to admit that for a long time I was confused by the cover of Yeses Close to the Edge. The album itself is one of the most expansive pieces of music ever recorded. It's musically profound, stretching rock to its limits with the trio of technically grueling songs that soar and dive through a half-dozen emotional states. Lyrically, it's surreal and esoteric, pulling from Herman Hesse's philosophical novel Siddhartha and bringing up broad questions about the very nature of humanity. To me, the calm green wash of the album cover never quite seemed to capture this feeling, especially as compared to a lot of Yeses' other album covers. But then I realized that there is a piece of artwork that does fully capture the magnificence of Close to the Edge. It's just not on the front of the packaging. Welcome to cover stories. I think that those of us who grew up and found music in the age of CDs, iTunes, and streaming have a fundamentally different conception of album artwork. In the digital world, album artwork lives as a single image confined to two dimensions. But in the age of vinyl, the packaging was a living artifact meant to be held as you listen to the music inspected for its every detail and passed around to friends. And the packaging reflected this, including liner notes or extra photos of the band. As rock music grew more elaborate and decadent in the 60s and 70s, so too did its packaging. Some of the best designs of this era consist of panoramic artwork that spreads across the sleeves. And sometimes they would even include interactive components or inserts inside the packaging. When these artworks are condensed down to a single digital image, a lot of their punch is lost. And that brings us back to Close to the Edge. The cover artwork that we all see when we stream yes on our phones is only half the story. Because Close to the Edge had gatefold packaging. And so the true genius of the album artwork is hidden behind a page turn. Like cracking open a classic sci-fi novel, turning the gatefold of Close to the Edge immerses you into a new and strange world. And this world completely captures the profundity and expansiveness of yes. This astounding gatefold was done by Roger Dean, who worked closely with yes throughout their career and even designed the iconic logo that made its debut on the front of Close to the Edge. Dean's artwork is distinct. It's surreal and utopian, depicting cinematic dreamscapes of alien worlds or imagined futures for a united humanity. Dean is a master craftsman. His works drip with stunning detail and pop with magnificent color. They're a perfect depiction of how it feels to listen to the strange cosmic sounds of progressive rock. Throughout the 70s and 80s, his artwork became forever linked with that genre thanks to his work with groups like Yes, Asia, and Gentle Giant. And his distinct style has impacts beyond music as well. His artwork was no doubt an influence on many of the surreal landscapes that adorn the basic lands of Magic the Gathering. And the planet Pandora from James Cameron's avatar shares some serious resemblance to Dean's work. In fact, Dean even tried to sue James Cameron over that fact. And that avatar influence is pretty clear looking at Close to the Edge. I really believe that Close to the Edge is one of the finest artworks from a truly singular visual artist. In designing the cover, Dean was inspired by hiking journeys in the Scottish Highlands as well as the panoramic views of England's Lake District. But Dean expands these images into something wider, more surreal. It's a piece of artwork that encourages participation, calling you in to explore its every detail. Dean explained to Louder Sound, I was painting landscapes to look real, and in the most literal sense of the word, enticing. I wanted them to pull you in and make people want to imagine what it would be like getting on a boat to the island. If that was the goal Dean knocked it out of the park. The longer you look at Close to the Edge, the more details there are to appreciate. The pristine lake spills over lush cliff sides into endless waterfall. An impossible bridge leads you into the artwork, inviting you to explore this world. And buried deep in the photo, almost as an afterthought, we see something that might be a human dwelling. It's a reminder of how small we all are, and how magnificent the universe around us is. A perfect visual expression of what yes, we're doing musically. And this works in concert with the minimal exterior cover. The act of opening close to the edge can feel like finding enlightenment, peering beyond something that seems impenetrable to find sublime beauty. This entire experience is lost in the translation of art across mediums. In fact, when Close to the Edge was first printed as a CD, the gatefold was left out of the packaging entirely. To me, that is a travesty. Listening to Close to the Edge with this as your visualization is a fundamentally different experience than listening to Close to the Edge with this as your visualization. And Close to the Edge is far from the only case where digital representation has undercut the sleeve designer's vision. Look at Miles Davis' Bitches Brew. What we get is definitely more representative of the album sound than the cover of Close to the Edge, but when you look at the front and back together, you get an astounding Yin and Yang panorama. Or how about Black Moses, where the record unfolds into a full portrait of Isaac Hayes shaped like a cross, hammering home the messianic imagery of the album. On Cream's Wheel of Fire, a black and white cover opens into an astounding psychedelic gatefold. And I could go on. There's so much incredible album packaging out there that is completely undermined by the way it's presented digitally. But that shouldn't have to be the case. Surely with the seemingly boundless capabilities of digital technology, we can come up with a better way of doing this, a way that honors the intent of the artists and designers that made these records so spectacular to begin with. I don't know, maybe that vision is too optimistic, but I think that at the very least, we should start giving Close to the Edge its due as some of the greatest album artwork ever made. Another one of my favorite pieces of album artwork ever made is Pink Floyd's Wish You Were Here. In fact, that album is one of my favorite albums ever made, period, so I created a new project to celebrate it. If you go to Nebula right now, you can watch the entirety of Wish You Were Here, an album companion. That's a video that plays in real time alongside the entirety of Wish You Were Here and explores the story of how the album was made and why it's still relevant today. It even includes a section on the iconic packaging if you're hungry for more cover stories. That project will be coming to YouTube in multiple videos eventually, but the only place that you'll ever be able to watch it in full as I envisioned it is Nebula. And if you've watched my stuff, chances are you already know that a great way to get started with Nebula is by signing up to CuriosityStream. If you go to curiositystream.com slash polyphonic, you can get 26% off an annual plan, which means less than 15 bucks for a whole year of great documentary content and early ad-free access to my videos. That means that as well as watching my Wish You Were Here companion, you can also watch All I Can Say, an intimate documentary on the tragic life of Blind Melons Shannon Hoon. That documentary assembles camcorder footage shot by Hoon himself to create a raw portrait of his life. So for all that and more, head on over to curiositystream.com slash polyphonic. Make sure to use the link in the description to get the best deal and to let them know that I sent you. And hey, thanks for watching. You're cool.