The consensus in my household, as I typed this piece, is that Janelle Monae’s face is immaculate and that this cover is a dire dare — the work of a self-destructive stylist or photographer who wanted to see whether they could take this outstanding raw material and burn down the whole tulle shed. The gown looks like someone scalped Beaker and then built something that sits atop the wearer like a lead vest in the dentist’s office. The orange buns on her shoulders matching the coils in her hair is a bit TOO much synergy for me; it’s to Janelle’s credit that she looks dignified still, but boy, the titular allure here is ENTIRELY and ONLY what she already brought to the table.