These 10 Gritty Album Covers Are Subtly Compelling

Paul Lolax, Jesse Fuller, Arlo Guthrie and more

I grew up in the age of the LP, in the 1970s and into the ’80s. Around 1986, a friend of mine played me some music through a medium called a CD. Albums were still a big part of my life even in the CD age. I can remember buying records during my high school and college years. They were focused on folk and acoustic music. It is the music I was trying to learn then, and I’m still trying. I always loved great album art. Sometimes a more obscure cover might make me listen a little harder for a connection between the image and the music. 

These covers are perhaps not iconic album art that is known by millions, but rather album art from my own personal LP collection. These are records that I have a personal attachment to. And I find the album art for all of my picks subtly compelling.

Paul Lolax

Ragtime Guitar (1976)

I picked up this record when I was in high school listening to a lot of fingerstyle guitar. The cover is by David Omar White, who was a prolific multimedia artist and cartoonist. I was always fascinated by the intricacy of the line drawing on this cover, and by the fact that the artist gave Mr. Lolax, depicted in the center, six fingers on each hand. 

Lead Belly

Lead Belly’s Last Sessions (1962)

There were several photographs taken of Lead Belly by James Chapelle during these sessions, recorded in 1948. The one that is on the front cover of Folkways is absolutely stunning. It seems to capture him mid-song, eyes almost completely shut as if this music is taking him far away in memory and time.

Leo Kottke

6- and 12-String Guitar (1969)

I think there are few covers that symbolize the beginning of a career in a way that is more recognizable than the “armadillo.” I remember the first time I saw it and not knowing much about Leo Kottke. I stared at it, wondering what it had to do with the guitar music I was going to hear. But there is some strange connection between Leo Kottke’s playing and the image of the armadillo meeting a small bug. Perhaps it will soon be dinner. Perhaps every bump on the armadillo’s armored coat represents a note of guitar music.

Si Kahn

Doing My Job (1982)

The front cover is by Ralph Fasanella, who was a self-taught painter and labor organizer. His paintings illustrate aspects of the labor movement and struggle in the 20th century. Si Kahn’s music reflects that as well. He is someone who has written deeply about the simple aspects of doing a job every day. For me, the image represents the textile mill town asleep, taking those few hours of rest before going back to work one more time. The songs and the painting have a rough, handcrafted feel.

Jim Brewer

Jim Brewer (1973)

Jim Brewer was a blues musician who went to Chicago in 1940. He played on Maxwell Street. In the ’60s, he started playing in folk clubs. By the time this record was made, he was a fixture on the scene. The cover photo, taken by Gordon Koster, is one of the many gritty scenes of Chicago that he shot during his long career. The blending of the grainy black-and-white image with the sound of Brewer’s solo guitar and voice is a perfect match. There is movement, energy—and you can hear the approaching train in Jim’s voice. 

Norman Blake

Lighthouse On The Shore (1985)

William Matthews, who created the cover, is known more as a western painter. But he has done a lot of albums over the years. This lighthouse scene could be somewhere in New England, Nova Scotia or far across the sea. The music, primarily by Norman and Nancy Blake, could be from near or far, present or long ago. Though the painting reflects the title of the album, it is the tune “Elzic’s Farewell” that seems to capture the mood.

Jesse Fuller

Move on Down the Line (1960)

Jesse Fuller called himself “the lone cat.” He played everything himself. Twelve-string guitar, harmonica, kazoo, cymbals and a foot-operated bass. The charcoal-drawn man on the record—his sleeves rolled up, suitcase and cigarette in hand, in full stride—is indeed moving on down the line. This is an old record, with old music, and an old black-and-white drawing moving out of the frame. Get it while it’s here, because soon it will be gone.

Dave Van Ronk

Sunday Street (1976)

No record cover captured my imagination as this one. I heard some Dave Van Ronk music on a folk radio show when I was in high school. I went to the public library to see if they had any of his music in their records section. This photograph was telling me something that my 18-year-old mind couldn’t quite grasp. Perhaps what you really find at the end of the rainbow is not a pot of gold, but a wino. I had no idea what the music was going to be, but I was certain it would be an adventure. I was not disappointed. The photograph is framed by what looks to be a section of asphalt sidewalk. The texture and cracks reflect those in Dave Van Ronk’s voice.

Arlo Guthrie

Alice’s Restaurant (1967) 

Arlo Guthrie sits staring at us between the candles, across a long dining table, naked from the waist up except for a napkin held mysteriously on his chest, and a bowler hat. The glasses are empty. The plate awaits the meal, the knife and fork are poised as he looks at us. Not quite a Mona Lisa expression. He seems to be saying, “I’m read. Are you?” And when you drop the needle on that 18-and-a-half-minute, anti-war, talking blues—elements of which pull at the alliterations of his father, Woody—that picture, and that song, with all their attendant absurdities, are all you need.

David Bromberg

David Bromberg (1971)

This simple effort by the artist Serena seems to ask the viewer to imagine the rest of the picture. Not that the music on this record gives that impression. Some selections are one voice and one guitar, while others are multi-layered with many instruments and voices. But the idea that the drawing seems to convey is: This is where it starts. This voice, this guitar. Now, imagine what the rest of it looks like as you listen.