Why Album Artwork Still Matters
In a world of playlists, streaming algorithms and endless scrolling, album artwork can seem like a relic from another time.
Long before I release a record, I begin collecting images, films, books and fragments of ideas. Atmospheres. Colors. Places that do not exist. Sometimes the artwork appears before the music is finished. Sometimes the music grows out of the same source as the visuals.
When I listen to an album that has stayed with me throughout my life, I rarely remember only the music. I remember the artwork. The texture of the sleeve. The photographs. The typography. The feeling of holding something physical while listening.
The image becomes part of the memory.
That connection is one of the reasons I continue to work closely with visual artists on every Code Elektro release.
Creating an album cover is not a process of hiring a designer and asking for an illustration. It begins with conversations. References. Shared inspirations. Discussions about films, architecture, science fiction, mood and atmosphere.
With artists such as John Bergin, Kilian Eng and Jon Gotlev, the artwork became a continuation of the music itself.
The conversations shaped the visual direction, but often the artists also brought ideas I could never have imagined on my own. The result became something larger than a simple representation of the album.
A collaboration.
A shared interpretation of a world that only existed as sound.
This is especially important in physical formats.
A vinyl record invites a different kind of experience. The artwork is no longer a tiny square on a screen. It becomes an object. Something you can hold, study and return to while the music plays.
The record becomes an artifact from a place that may not exist, but feels real for the duration of the album.
For me, the visual side of music has always been deeply connected to immersion.
Science fiction films taught me this early. Blade Runner is not only remembered because of its soundtrack or story. It is remembered because every visual detail contributes to the atmosphere. Sound and image become inseparable.
I believe albums can work the same way.
The artwork becomes the first frame of a film that only exists inside the listener's imagination.