
What you are looking at above is a piece of music. Or at least the inventive packaging that publicizes it. In a limited edition of one hundred $125 dollar pieces, each inscribed with a unique code to download the music, the spooky sculpture is intended to reflect the “skyscrapers that might populate Dear’s (the recording artist) creeping, nameless city”. It’s also, one imagines, designed to drum up interest for another album in a crowded market – the analogue music equivalent of a pop-up store.
The perceived value of music purchased digitally is dropping – we keep hearing that most folk under 25 assume the product should be free. That’s about as commoditized as a market gets, so it’s interesting to observe how music packaging is responding to the challenge.
It appears that two very contrasting solutions are emerging. The first is no packaging at all, with the in-store physical version doing the bare minimum (and so also bringing a bit of sustainability cred through under-packaging). The alternative is to go super premium, like these arty tower blocks, or the kind of luxurious box sets with included coffee table book of the kind beloved by men of a certain age (and here, while the guys might still favour buying their music in physical form, they still need an inducement, because it’s probably the third or forth time they have bought the same basic tracks, from vinyl to tape to CD). The Stones re-release of Exile could be bought for £100 with added books, DVD’s etc.


What’s the learning for FMCG commodity packaging? That imaginative approaches to design can elevate the ordinary to the engaging, and that added value can be used to transcend the basic nature of the actual product. The most successful examples are not necessarily the most costly. Mos Def got loads of publicity for selling his album as a t-shirt with download code attached, and this neatly gave his fan base a tangible badge of their support for him.
On a slightly different topic, I noticed the shelf blocking for Arcade Fire’s new CD this week. As a play on the album’s title (The Suburbs) it’s a neat “same but different” joke. But it also shows that the humble CD jewel case, typically derided for killing the design opportunities afforded by vinyl, can be put to effective and creative use in retail. You just need to think outside the box.

