At first glance, this album cover may seem like just another retarded 1970s disco cover, one whose blatant sexism has gone so far over the top that's become as nasty as the carpet our main man is wearing on his chest. But probe deeper. What seems to be blatant sexism is actually an intelligently concocted political statement about the hedonism of the disco scene of the late 70s. The women are slaves to overwhelming lust, passion, and the whims of effete playboys who could not care less about them and would gladly exchange their company for money with which to fuel their debauched lifestyle. The chains also tie into the issue of race; these women literally become slaves, harkening back to the destruction of African homelands and the exploitation of black labor in the Americas, our male lead being a traitor of the highest caliber as he sells his own blood, his own heritage, in an attempt to gain money and power from a group that does not respect him at all. Truly, this album cover is a tribute to the genius of music's ability to expand our minds and our horizons.
...on second thought, after examining the album cover further, in particular our male lead's silver codpiece, I reverse my analysis. This is the product of a shallow and sexist culture in which people actually did stupid things like hang out at Studio 54 or let Styx albums hit the Top 10 instead of the bottom of a trash can. Intellectual crisis averted!
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