A monkey stares straight out from the middle of the frame, a pale halo hovering just above its head. Around it float three numbers, 5, 6 and 7, and a web of faint geometric lines boxes the animal in like a specimen pinned for study. The whole picture sits in warm amber and bronze, degraded and softened as though recovered from an old, water-stained document.
The creature's body is turned slightly, but its face is fixed on the viewer, and the effect is both comic and unsettling: an interspecies gaze that refuses to look away. This is the monkey gone to heaven, the visual anchor of the Pixies' second album, and Black Francis's lyrics about Biblical violence and the thin line between the human and the animal seem to gather behind those blank, staring eyes.
Vaughan Oliver and Simon Larbalestier built the sleeve as a puzzle of pairings: halo and animal, numbers and grid, with answers that reach back to the Book of Revelation and to the Renaissance. What those numbers mean, why the grid is there, and how a museum specimen became the band's face for the rest of their career unfolds below.

























