How Album Covers Inspired My Path into Design
Recently, someone asked me at a networking event: "Why did you become a graphic designer?" and "What inspires you?"
It took me a moment to answer. Running Mammoth, our creative agency, means juggling everything from VAT receipts to perfecting that elusive lead-generating contact form (still working on it, by the way!). But at my core, I’m a designer. And thinking back to where it all started brought up some great memories.
For as long as I can remember, music has been a huge part of my life. But it wasn’t just the melodies that caught my attention - it was the album covers. How could a single image sum up the essence of an entire album, with all its songs and emotions? I was fascinated by this concept, and in hindsight, I realise those covers sparked my passion for graphic design.
In fact, my university dissertation was all about the importance of graphic design in the music industry. To this day, I’m still inspired by how visuals can amplify and enhance a message - whether it’s through music or branding.
Over the coming weeks, I’ll be sharing some of the album covers that have inspired me the most and helped shape my journey into design.
POST 1
How an Animated Band and a Four-Panel Album Cover Shaped My Design Thinking
It’s funny to think that when Demon Days by Gorillaz came out, I wasn’t into design at all. In fact, I didn’t get into design until my early 20s. But looking back, I realise that certain things - like this album cover - must have influenced me subconsciously. This post is the first in a series where I’ll share the album covers that had a lasting impact on me, even before I fully understood how. Demon Days was one of those moments where the visuals and music were so deeply connected, they stayed with me for years.
When Demon Days was released, I’d already heard songs from their debut album and seen the Clint Eastwood music video. But Demon Days felt different. This was the point where I truly understood that Gorillaz wasn’t just a regular band—it was a virtual band, and the visuals were just as important as the music.
The album cover, with its four-panelled layout featuring 2-D, Murdoc, Noodle, and Russel, caught my attention immediately. It reminded me of iconic album covers like The Beatles’ Let It Be, but instead of real people, it was these animated characters. The artwork didn’t just complement the music - it was the band’s identity. I didn’t realise it at the time, but this blend of music and visuals was planting the seeds for how I’d later approach design.
In my university dissertation, I explored Jamie Hewlett’s brilliance in using digital art and technology to create the Gorillaz universe. He didn’t just design an album cover; he built a fully immersive world around the characters, using social media and storytelling to make them feel real. Hewlett showed that when design is paired with technology and cultural relevance, it has the power to connect with audiences on a whole new level.
Years later, when I started working in design, I realised just how much Demon Days had influenced me. It wasn’t just about creating visuals - it was about creating an experience. This album was a masterclass in branding, showing how sound and visuals can work together to tell a cohesive, memorable story.
What really stood out to me about this cover was how the four-panel layout framed each character, giving them their own space while still feeling part of a bigger story. It’s a technique that’s often used in branding to create a sense of unity while allowing individual elements to shine - something I always try to incorporate into my work today.
POST 2
How Abstract Design Can Elevate a Brand: Lessons from Unknown Pleasures
Continuing my series on album covers that have shaped my design thinking, I have to mention Unknown Pleasures by Joy Division. During my teens, I’d often see this iconic cover, whether it was with friends at Chelmsford HMV or during trips to the huge 3-level HMV on Buchanan Street, Glasgow, with my dad. Even though I hadn’t heard the album yet, the design left me intrigued.
That curiosity and intrigue eventually led me to listen to the album, and I wonder how many others did the same. What brilliant branding and marketing - a cover that makes you want to discover the music behind it.
It’s crazy to think this album was released in 1979 - the artwork would still feel powerful and modern if it were released today. We’ve now got a large version of this cover hanging in our office, and it’s still as striking as ever.
The cover features a visualisation of radio waves from the first pulsar ever discovered. Designed by Peter Saville, it feels as haunting and atmospheric as Joy Division’s music.
What stands out to me is how this design has taken on a life of its own. The Unknown Pleasures wave pattern has become so iconic that many people wear it without knowing it's from a Joy Division album, let alone having heard any of their songs. It’s transcended its original context, becoming a symbol in fashion, pop culture, and design circles.
From T-shirts to tattoos, it’s a testament to how powerful abstract design can be and how it can connect with audiences in unexpected ways.
For me, this cover is a reminder that branding doesn’t always have to be obvious or literal. Sometimes, creating something abstract can speak to the emotions of your audience and leave a deeper impact.
That’s what makes designs like this endure - by evoking feeling and curiosity, they transcend their original purpose and become something much bigger.
It’s a lesson I carry with me into my design work every day - striving to create visuals that don’t just look good but resonate on a deeper level.
POST 3
Exile on Main St. and the Art of Imperfection in Design
Continuing my series on album covers that have shaped my design thinking, I have to talk about Exile on Main St. by The Rolling Stones. At 16, I was in that classic phase of discovering music with a raw, rebellious edge—the kind that felt real and unapologetically gritty. And then I stumbled across this album and its cover. It instantly grabbed me. What was I looking at? Who were these strange characters? I particularly remember, staring back at me from the cover, the iconic image of the street performer with his mouth stuffed with three large billiard balls. The whole image felt bizarre, chaotic, and completely captivating. I found myself wondering: who are these people, and how did they end up here?
This album came from a chaotic time for the Stones, and you can feel that energy in every part of it. As Keith Richards put it, “The Stones really felt like exiles… it was us against the world now.” That defiance runs through the album, from the music—which feels rebellious and rough around the edges—to the cover art itself. What looks like a collage of photos is actually a single shot by Robert Frank, taken at Hubert’s Dime Museum and Flea Circus in New York City. The image, filled with circus “freaks” and sideshow performers, completely mirrors the band’s “outlaw” vibe.
What’s interesting is how it took a few years for this raw, gritty style to fully resonate. But it eventually went on to influence punk, with Johnny Rotten (John Lydon) of the Sex Pistols even citing Exile on Main St. as an influence. I think there’s something there about the discomfort that new, disruptive ideas can bring - people needed time to wrap their heads around this kind of raw, unfiltered expression. It’s a bit like how people are responding to AI today; sometimes, it takes time for the world to catch up to something that feels unfamiliar.
The title Exile on Main St. combined with this striking artwork captures the mood of the band as “runaway outlaws,” giving the album a truly cohesive feel. Each element reinforces the other: the music, the band’s mindset, the title, and the gritty photography all come together to tell a powerful story. It’s a reminder of how design can enhance and echo the deeper message, something I aim for in my own work.
Owning this album on vinyl feels like holding a piece of that story. Every time I pick it up, I discover new details hidden in the cover - it’s a reminder that sometimes, capturing something real and unpolished without overthinking it can have the biggest impact.
It’s interesting to think about how history might repeat itself. In a world driven by digital perfection, will we start craving a return to something more raw and tangible, like the DIY aesthetic of punk?
Sometimes, chaos can be just as powerful as perfection.
POST 4
The Power of Red, White, and Black: Branding Lessons from The White Stripes’ Elephant 🎸 🐘
Like with Demon Days, I was just a bit too early on my musical journey to catch The White Stripes’ first album. But when Elephant dropped, it was unmissable. For me, and probably for a lot of people, Seven Nation Army was the gateway.
That colossal anthem wasn’t just iconic in sound; the mesmerising video made a lasting impression. Red, white, and black pulsed relentlessly on screen, creating an unforgettable, almost hypnotic experience. It’s rare to remember specific colours from a music video, but with this one, I bet most people do.
The whole thing felt brainwashing in the best way possible, using colour so powerfully that it created an immediate mood. And that’s no accident. Red, white, and black have a significant place in visual history; they’re colours that have been associated with power, passion, and even psychological impact in everything from propaganda to art. Jack White’s choice taps into something deep and instinctual—a visual palette that grabs hold and doesn’t let go.
What I love is how Jack White didn’t stop at the video or album cover. The colour scheme was everywhere: album art, music videos, stage setups, and even their instruments. It wasn’t just branding for branding’s sake. It was a full experience that made the band instantly recognisable. Scroll through their Spotify back catalogue and it’s a sea of red, white, and black. Genius and unforgettable.
While other bands chased complex visuals, The White Stripes doubled down on simplicity and consistency. It’s a great reminder that sticking to a few core elements can make a brand that much stronger.
Elephant taught me the power of colour and consistency in design. Over time, it’s easy for businesses to get bored with a certain style and change direction too quickly. But in doing so, they risk not being known for any aesthetic at all.
Jack White’s commitment to a simple palette shows how sticking to your visual identity can make you more memorable in the long run.
A seven nation army couldn’t shake that iconic colour combo!
🥚 Easter Eggs: Elephant Details You Might Have Missed
For those who love design Easter eggs, Elephant’s cover has a few playful nods to its title. Jack and Meg White are seated on a steamer trunk (an “elephant trunk,” if you will), with peanuts scattered on the floor—an apparent nod to elephants’ favourite snack. Jack even holds a cricket bat that resembles an elephant tusk.
All these elements add a sense of fun to the album cover. The setup feels serious, but it’s full of hidden, playful touches.
POST 5
How Hybrid Theory by Linkin Park Inspired My Love for Artist-Involved Design
My last album cover of this series takes me back to the first album I ever bought. I was 9 years old, and I picked up Hybrid Theory by Linkin Park at Currys in Gallows Corner, Romford. I didn’t know anything about design back then, but I knew this album cover looked different. The gritty, layered image of a soldier with dragonfly wings felt powerful and intense, it perfectly matched the energy of the music inside, while the wings hinted at a softer, more vulnerable side.
What I later found out and loved, is that Linkin Park’s own Mike Shinoda was directly involved in creating the cover art. His role gave the visuals a level of authenticity, almost like the artwork and music were telling the same story together. When artists get involved in the design, it can create that cohesive experience where everything feels connected.
But not every artist sees it this way! I once had the chance to interview Echo and the Bunnymen’s lead singer Ian McCulloch after a solo performance at the Colchester Arts Centre. When I asked him about album artwork, he laughed and said, “It’s shit and a pain in the arse.” As a musician, his focus is naturally on the music, while someone like Shinoda, with experience in both fields, values the visual side just as much.
It’s similar in branding. Some clients want to be involved in every step, bringing their ideas to the table, while others prefer to leave the creative process in our hands and focus on their expertise. Both approaches work, and both can lead to great results. The flexibility to adapt is what keeps each project unique and aligned with the client’s vision.
Personally, as a designer who loves music and has played in bands myself, I think it’s something special when artists choose to get involved in the visuals. For me, Hybrid Theory was an early lesson in the power of that connection. When the visuals and music work hand-in-hand, it creates a genuine, lasting impression.
In design, that cohesion can be everything.
POST 6 - Conclusion
Here are five key lessons to take away from this series
Over the past few weeks, I’ve shared five album covers that have shaped my thinking as a designer and brand strategist:
Demon Days by Gorillaz
Unknown Pleasures by Joy Division
Exile on Main St. by The Rolling Stones
Elephant by The White Stripes
Hybrid Theory by Linkin Park
Each one taught me something unique and showed how music and design can combine to create something truly impactful.
Just like in branding, it’s about connecting visuals with a deeper message to build an identity that resonates and lasts. At Mammoth, this is exactly what we aim to do, creating bold and meaningful brand identities that tell a story and leave a lasting impression.
Here are five key lessons I’m taking away from this series:
01 - Simplicity is power
From Unknown Pleasures to Elephant, these covers prove that simplicity often makes the strongest statement. Stripped-back visuals, when done well, leave room for interpretation and create intrigue. In branding, less really can be more.
02 - Create a world, not just an image
Demon Days showed me the power of world-building through design. Jamie Hewlett didn’t just create an album cover; he built a whole universe around Gorillaz. Great brands do the same by inviting people into a story that goes far beyond a single visual.
03 - Authenticity resonates
Whether it’s the raw, chaotic energy of Exile on Main St. or the personal touch of Mike Shinoda’s artwork on Hybrid Theory, authenticity matters. It’s what makes a design feel real and helps it connect on a deeper level.
04 - Consistency builds recognition
Jack White’s relentless commitment to red, white, and black across every element of The White Stripes’ branding shows the value of consistency. In design and branding, sticking to a visual language helps create instant recognition and lasting impact.
05 - Design should amplify the message
Each of these album covers didn’t just look good; they reflected the music within. Whether it was the haunting waves of Unknown Pleasures or the raw emotion of Exile on Main St., the design amplified the message. That’s what great branding should always do—bring the essence of the product or service to life.
Together these albums have reminded me why I love design and branding.
Sometimes it’s easy to forget what inspired you to follow a particular path, so it’s been nice to reflect on the journey that brought me here. The things that inspire you can often work on a subconscious level, and only later do you realise their deeper meaning. What might have seemed like a simple love for album covers at the time has grown into a passion for design that drives my work today.
Thank you to the person who asked me, “What inspired you to get into design?” Sometimes, you need that little reminder to reconnect with what started it all.
