8 cover stories in our archive
Behind the Covers' archive includes 8 album covers documented under the "found photograph" design theme, spanning the 1950s, 1970s, 1980s, 1990s, 2000s, 2010s. These covers sit within the hip-hop, rock, indie, alternative, punk, jazz, pop, metal, folk tradition and feature work by Kendrick Lamar, The Strokes, DJ Shadow, Beastie Boys and others. Each entry below includes the cover artwork, the designers and photographers behind it, and a short story about the visual choices that defined the release.
A maroon minivan sits on a cracked Compton street under a hard blue sky, bent slightly by a fisheye lens. It's the deluxe face of Kendrick Lamar's 2012 album, whose standard cover is a real family Polaroid: a toddler Kendrick on his uncle's lap, the adults' eyes blacked out, a 40-ounce beside a baby bottle.
The US cover of The Strokes' debut isn't a hip in a leather glove. It's the wreckage of subatomic particles smashing apart inside a European physics chamber, an image that had already lived on a Prince record and a science book before it reached Times Square.
Two crate-diggers frozen mid-search in a used-record store, one blurred so badly he seems to be dissolving. It looks like a candid snapshot, but it's the cover of the album Guinness calls the first made entirely from samples, shot in the exact store where those samples were found.
A man in dark sunglasses leans out a diner window clutching a phone, frozen in a 1964 photograph that Esquire never printed. Bruce Davidson shot it, forgot it, and thirty years later the Beastie Boys pulled it into daylight for an album about hip-hop, punk, jazz and funk crashing together.
The young Marine staring past you never agreed to become the face of a vegetarian anthem. His helmet once read 'Make War Not Love.' Morrissey changed two words, cloned him fourfold like a Warhol print, and turned a Vietnam still into the Smiths' only UK number one.
Four guys, one brick wall, and a $125 photograph that rewrote what an album cover could be. The Ramones barely sold a copy in 1976, yet the picture they posed for has been copied more than almost any other in rock. Here is how blank stares and ripped jeans became the look of punk.
A picture frame holding a stooped old man bears no band name, no title, nothing — just a record so confident it dared customers to recognize it. For fifty years everyone called the image a Victorian oil painting. In 2023, the truth turned out to be stranger, and far more human.
A young man caught mid-howl, mouth wide, eyes shut, hammering an acoustic guitar in pink and green block letters. For nearly fifty years the wrong photographer got the credit for one of rock's most copied covers. Here's who really shot it, and why The Clash stole it.