It started with a call.
Fifteen years ago, my phone rang, and on the other end was an artist from Sony/BMG’s newly formed Battery Records. He wasted no time getting to the point. The last designer just wasn’t capturing the vision, but he was confident I would. There was just one problem:
The deadline for cover art was 48 hours away.
No time to overthink. The check was right and the opportunity was massive. I just knew I could pull it off. So, I cleared my schedule, gathered myself, and locked in for what would become a 36-hour creative sprint. There were minor edits later, but the sprint for this project was one of the most intense of my career.
Decoding the Details
When the cover art for Unspoken finally came together, it spoke volumes without saying a word.
I chose an image from the artist shoot that captured him bound and silenced—his hands tied, mouth taped shut, and communicating only with his eyes. It was more than just a striking visual; it was a metaphor. Behind the scenes, there was a lot he couldn’t say, a lot he couldn’t do. The industry had its grip on aspects of the creative output, but this album was a way of speaking between the lines.
The setting was a cold, industrial warehouse, his breath visible in the freezing air. Frost crept along the edges of the frame, giving the sense that he was trapped in a cryogenic state—a place where time, emotion, and movement had all but frozen.
But then there were his eyes.
Glowing icy blue, they weren’t just for effect. I pulled the color from stock imagery of a baby’s eyes, a symbol of truth and justice. It gave him an almost superhuman quality—like a hero who had been forced to adapt to the cold, surviving in a system that tried to break him.
A black eye hinted at the battles he’d fought along the way. The duct tape over his mouth? Not only a play on the Unspoken title, but a reminder that even at the "height" of his mainstream career, there were still things he couldn’t say.
Interpretation vs. Intention
When Unspoken dropped on March 17, 2009, it landed homepage coverage on MySpace—a major look at the time. But the real impact?
The internet went to work.
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Why was he bound in a freezer?
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Why were his eyes glowing?
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Was this some kind of Illuminati symbolism?
Some saw rebellion. Others received revelation.
Either way, it did what art is supposed to do—it made people feel something. It made them talk. And at the end of the day, that’s what makes an album cover legendary.
If only y'all had seen the earlier versions… but that’s another story. ;)
Portfolio Worthy
This wasn’t just another album. It was the final chapter of a brand—Tonéx’s fifth and final commercial release before retiring the name altogether.
For me, personally? It was a milestone. The first time I saw my work on the end cap of a store shelf. The first time my design was on the cover of a project this high-profile.
And since the creative team kept my name low-key in the credits, I made my own move. I hid my logo on the back cover. Because when you create something unforgettable, your name doesn’t have to be loud. It was a moment that I'd let my work speak for me.
The project pushed my limits. It reinforced that I thrive under pressure, deliver when it counts, and know how to craft impactful visuals.
At Futureverse Studios, it isn't just about designing album covers. We build stories, brands, and experiences—projects that challenge, provoke, and stand the test of time.
Unspoken received a Grammy nomination for it's single "Blend".
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