10 Album Covers That Serve as Anchors for Memories

Anita Baker, Prince, Ray Charles and more

Whenever I’m asked to do projects like this, my first instinct is to talk myself out of it. Thoughts like “No one is going to look at this,” quickly become, “It’s going to be bad and everyone will know you’re just an old, angry asshole,” which eventually circles back to, “No one cares.” It’s the same torturous loop.

But then something shifts once I actually start. The project finds its way into my world and memories begin to surface. Like how my mom kept a painting I did of Alicia Keys, a 5×5 foot portrait. My supermom rescued it from a fire in our house back in 2002, burnt edge and all. That painting was my first real experimentation with acrylics and the grid method. Mom didn’t care about any of that. She just loved that album, so she saved the artwork. (Plus it tied the living room together.)

That’s the thing with albums—they’re never just music. They’re anchors. They hold the faces, places and moments you didn’t realize you were collecting. This little lineup of covers is a snapshot of mine.

Etta James

At Last! (1960)

“I want a Sunday kind of love.” I think I was in Barnes and Noble back when they used to have that music wall where you could pop on some headphones and listen to whole CDs. Undeniable yearning was what I was hearing in this album. Graphically brilliant as it leads with a golden warmth, and an elegant but also baby-like profile just feeds into that brilliantly needy signature riff—when Etta isn’t doing her vocal powerhouse thing as in “Something’s Got a Hold on me.” She shows us that powerful emotion doesn’t require spectacle—just the expression of a true connection to one’s feelings. 

Curtis Mayfield

Curtis (1970)

He’s just so damn cool. Social commentary in style and I wish I had this, as I have a tendency to completely withdraw. The perspective in this composition makes him look mountainous, like clouds are about to form around his head. I spend more time in the mountains these days, usually upon approach, I imagine the peaks saying “I’ve been here,” a grand gesture to remind me of how small and silly we are. 

Frank Ocean

Blond (2016)

I don’t own much contemporary vinyl, mostly old jazz records, but this one I treasure as part of my modest collection. This album reminds me of driving around the Big Island, Hawaii, with my wife … when we weren’t listening to the Jurassic Park soundtrack. For me, it also marks a visual departure from the overly set up, to catching a moment, stirring questions. Who took this pic? What happened to his finger? Why is it so bright in his bathroom? And the use of this phone-captured polaroid-like format is altogether something new and classic at the time, born out of that Fader or Bullet magazine aesthetic. I’ve probably thought too much about this cover, which I appreciate mainly for its simplicity.

Anita Baker

Rapture (1986)

My mom used to play this album while cleaning the house or washing clothes. My sister would turn on the radio at bedtime and there she was again. Anita at night. Sometimes I’d imagine her standing in my house like this. My mom had a similar hairstyle, so when the cover was present, I felt like it was watching me, so I couldn’t get into nothing. Look at this album cover long enough and tell me she isn’t looking at two kids cussin’ while throwing rocks at each other. She is poise, authority, angelic grace in restraint.

Prince

Batman Soundtrack (1989)

I just love how bold, shiny and fun this is. I hate to blaspheme here, but I prefer the Danny Elfman score and the Seal campiness, but this one is a framer. 

Thelonious Monk

Monk’s Music (1957)

Monk on a red wagon in a suit is just genius, being pulled along by the absurd. I love improvisation in jazz, comedy or cinema. This image also reflects our whole working philosophy: structure disguised as play. Imagine having a bad day at the office, and Monk pulls up like, “Take it easy, my man, take it real easy.”

Tyler, The Creator

CHROMAKOPIA (2024)

Tyler is a beast. His genre-defying sound really connects with my love for thematic and tonal playtime. He does abrasive experimentation with emotion. And that is what I’m chasing as a creative professional and director: surprise, provoke and move. Love the mask, Eraserhead, Len Prince’s photographic approximation—but Afro-noir, it’s just weird and fun and I’d like to chat with him about it. And I want the mask. 

Ray Charles

Modern Sounds in Country and Western Music (1962)

Ray’s is one of my favorite artists of all time. I love this cover. My wife was pregnant and we were renting a short-term place in London near Hyde Park while on a job. It was small but done well, with a fireplace, a piano, small bedrooms and an intimate grand living room set for entertaining. The only photo in the entire place was of Ray Charles at the piano from a concert in ’68. So we named my son after him. 

The Rolling Stones

Rolled Gold (1975)

This high-gloss, stylized typography, spectacle. It’s an oldie but goodie designed by one of my favs, Alex Trochut. Long live typographic illustration that gets printed, screen printed, and Epson printed. I can feel myself disappearing. 

Tierra Whack

Pepper and Onions (2020)

As a person who grew up with Aquateen Hunger Force and Missy Elliot, I’m here for all Tierra puts into the world. Surrealism stylized with a satirical bent. This cover feels like the beginning of something, and someone said pencils down. Sometimes the best version is the first crude kernel. Visual absurdity and lurking chaos. The mix of color and distortion evokes the kind of human messiness you often want to express—especially in comedy with bite.