I won't ever forget the first time I saw this album cover. It was 1979, three years after Robert Palmer's Pressure Drop was released. On the outer rim of Baltimore was where I lived at the time, and though it's not there anymore, there used to be a Farmer's Market that had flea markets on the outside, plus produce, products, etc. on the inside. Each booth was fenced in with chicken wire, which was a hilarious effect, and one booth was a record stand. Every time we went, I always gravitated here to listen to the 45s the proprietor spun, and there was one particular day I spotted Pressure Drop with nine year old eyes. Blondie's "Call Me" from American Gigolo
was spinning, which is kind of apropos when you look at the laissez faire Palmer standing almost nonchalantly with his nude one night stand peering out the balcony from his playboy apartment. At the time, I was infatuated with the nudity, but now I'm all about wondering what Palmer has on his mind with that remote in his hand. Has he already bedded the model yet? Is he about to? Is he trying to set a mood? Does he even care she's naked?
It's the question of what next that appeals to me about the cover of Pressure Drop.
Palmer, who was always projecting himself as a debonair sophisticate, a James Bond of the rock and soul jet set, looks absolutely in control here with only the question of what to do next with a naked vixen in his stead. Personally, I like to think he toys with her and sends her on her way, but most likely by her wet hair, it's the morning after and she wants more time with him while he's already thinking about the rest of his day, which doesn't include her. That dog!