It's an art form in itself, and one of the toughest tasks in pop. You can spend a year, eighteen months, two years honing a dozen songs for your new album; you think they all sound like hit singles, and yet a pithy, snappy album title still eludes you. Weep, then, for Take That who were quite pleased with themselves after thinking up Circus only to discover Britney Spears was set to release her new album on the very same day with the very same title.
Take That have dully retitled their album The Circus. Calling it At The Circus could have led to some intriguing artwork, or they could have borrowed an old Lilac Time album title, the exotic and uplifting Paradise Circus - itself borrowed from the name of a roundabout in central Birmingham.
Come up with the right name and you've got instant good will and good press. It doesn't have to be as Daily Mail-baiting as Never Mind The Bollocks, or the Revolting Cocks' 1989 effort Beers Steers And Queers. Kylie Minogue came up with the apposite Impossible Princess in 1997. Just as it was about to hit the shops Princess Diana died and, in case some clowns misunderstood her and assumed she was attempting to inveigle herself into the royal family, the name had to be changed. As a replacement title, "Kylie Minogue" hardly got the pop buds tingling, and - no coincidence, surely - none of the singles taken from it made the Top 10.
A self-titled album may work for a debut but, if not, they are frighteningly cheerless. Edwyn Collins' old band Orange Juice cleverly titled their third album The Orange Juice, which made it sound definitive and important even though it was rather boring. The Beatles took it to an extreme with their 1968 double which was simply called The Beatles and came in a plain white sleeve. Presumably against the group's wishes, the public rebelled against this minimalist statement, instantly retitling it The White Album. It originally had the working title of A Doll's House which, along with suitably intricate artwork, was scrapped late on. Leicester band Family got wind of this and cheekily titled their 1968 album Music From A Doll's House.
Marc Bolan was pop savvy enough to abbreviate his band's name from Tyrannosaurus Rex to T Rex, and cool, sexy song titles (Jeepster, Telegram Sam, Children Of The Revolution) were his forte. Practise makes perfect, I suppose - he christened his first album My People Were Fair And Had Sky In Their Hair, But Now They're Content To Wear Stars On Their Brows. Allegedly it's one of Mark Owen's favourite albums - which puts The Circus into sharp perspective.