By Mike Sain't Louis ·
20 Años: a wedding cake split right down the middle
Black and white. A table with a tablecloth, a two-tier wedding cake with its sugar flowers and frills. And a huge crack splitting it in two, from top to bottom, revealing the dark sponge inside.
On top, two grooms in tuxedos. One on each half. They don't look at each other.
The cover of 20 Años (20 Years) is one of those that need no explanation. The wall behind is splattered with cream, there are bits of cake all over the table and a knife tossed to one side. Someone has cut the cake, but not to share it out.
What strikes me most is the contrast between the elegance of the moment and the disaster. A wedding between two men, something that took so much to achieve, turned into separated figurines. And the title gives the number: twenty years. Two decades that fit into a broken cake.
I don't know whether there's a nice way to tell an ending like that. This one, at least, is honest.
Listen to it calmly, in no hurry to move on to the next one.