10 Great Album Covers With Images of Passion x Power

Eminem, Nils Frahm, Radiohead and more

I’m so grateful to go back through these deep memories, sounds and vibrations. Each album is a marker, a testament to the moments that shaped me, songs that taught me, and covers that painted my world with vibrant hues of musical genius. These albums span genres, cultures, and eras, yet each tells a story intricately woven into my own. Anthems of my youth, the whispers of my dreams and echoes of my heritage. Here are some covers that have become milestones of my life’s soundtrack.

Miriam Makeba

Pata Pata (1967)

One of my earliest and most precious memories is of Pata Pata playing in my home in Ivory Coast. The album cover, with Miriam Makeba’s radiant smile and vibrant attire, is etched in my mind. Every time I see that cover, it transports me back to our living room, watching my parents dance. This project is a representation of the African pride that Makeba’s music instilled in all of us. It’s one of those that would play in the background at any given moment. Miriam Makeba’s strength and activism during the South African apartheid has really inspired my journey into advocacy. Her music and very being is a celebration of resilience and identity, a beacon of hope and strength still today.

Eminem

The Marshall Mathers LP (2000)

Eminem was my gateway to the English language. I remember being 14 and rapping the lyrics by heart without knowing what I was saying. I only spoke French before we moved from Ivory Coast to Ghana. I was excited to learn, but Eminem’s lyrics are not ideal for practicing your English with random people—it forced me to learn quickly. Though I barely understood, I still felt his unfiltered storytelling and relentless intensity. The gritty black-and-white cover of Em as an asylum patient on the floor was always so intriguing. It was a bit creepy, but it was the right amount to lure me in and allow me to explore a whole new world. Believe it or not, this album taught me that words hold power, a lesson that has deeply influenced my narrative craft. Shoutout Slim Shady. 

Lauryn Hill

The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill (1998)

The cover is iconic—Lauryn’s face etched into a wooden desk like a student’s doodle come to life. This album is the cornerstone of my artistic foundation. I vividly remember the first time I heard her powerful voice and profound lyrics. It felt like I was in that classroom with those kids. It was like discovering a new language, one that spoke directly to my soul. I got the opportunity to collaborate with Lauryn on her album’s 25th-anniversary tour announcement, and it was a truly transformative experience. We spent hours on phone calls, her words filled with wisdom and love, fueling my creativity. I was blessed by a legend. Her music taught me that true art is timeless and it must speak to the soul, a lesson that continues to guide my work.

Radiohead

Kid A (2000)

The abstract, geometric landscape is a perfect visual representation of the album’s sound. Those jagged peaks and cool colors hint at something alien yet beautiful, much like the music itself. Kid A was nothing short of a revelation. A crazy left turn in my life. I remember the first time I listened to it in Ghana. Everyone was so confused as to why I was into that when everyone else was bumping to hip hop and dancehall hahaha… It felt like stepping into a new dimension of music where every note challenged my perceptions. That cover taught me that art doesn’t have to be literal to be powerful. It can be abstract, challenging and open to interpretation. 

Kendrick Lamar

To Pimp a Butterfly (2015)

The cover of To Pimp a Butterfly is a masterpiece for a masterpiece of a project. A group of young Black men posed triumphantly in front of the White House, with a judge seemingly knocked out at their feet. It’s provocative, powerful, and layered with meaning—just like Kendrick’s lyrics. The contrast between the group’s exuberant pose and the White House’s formal backdrop speaks volumes about race, power, and resistance in America. I love how Kendrick himself is almost hidden in the group—it took me years to spot him. You know something is good when you go back and look at it and keep finding new things. This cover is a visual manifesto to a timeless piece; it inspires me to create art that’s equally bold and thought-provoking.

Jóhann Jóhannsson

Gold Dust (2024)

The cover is striking in its simplicity—a textured golden surface that seems to shimmer and move. It’s almost organic, like the scales of some mythical creature. This cover perfectly encapsulates the ethereal, emotional quality of Jóhannsson’s music. There’s a warmth to it but also a sense of mystery. It makes me think of alchemy, of transforming raw emotions into something precious and beautiful. As I use this album to score my next feature film, I often find myself staring at this cover, letting it inspire visual ideas. It’s a reminder that the simplest images can be the most evocative.

Nils Frahm

All Melody (2018)

The cover is beautifully minimalist—just Nils Frahm in the corner of what looks like a recording studio. It’s not posed or polished; it feels like a candid moment captured during the creative process. I love how it gives us a glimpse into the world where this beautiful music was born. This album was the background to my life during the intense process of writing a feature with my dear brother, Oscar-nominated director Jeremy Comte. The album’s intricate melodies gave us both calm and inspiration. It was the perfect companion during those long nights of writing and rewriting; each track a gentle push toward completion.

Slowthai

Nothing Great About Britain (2019)

The cover of is provocative and unforgettable—Slowthai is naked and chained in stocks, a medieval punishment set against a council estate backdrop. It’s a powerful visual metaphor for the album’s class struggle and national identity themes. The contrast between the historical punishment and the modern setting is jarring, much like Slowthai’s music itself. This cover art dares you to engage with it and question what you see. It inspired me to be bolder in my own work and to not shy away from uncomfortable truths. While working on my first short film, “Zoo,” I often thought of this cover as a reminder to push boundaries and challenge perceptions.

Tiken Jah Fakoly

France-Afrique (2002)

I love this cover because I think it’s the first CD my father bought me. The photograph of Tiken Jah and the bikers around him always felt like scenes I witnessed in Abidjan, people mobilizing and uniting to fight against our strong colonial ties. It’s a powerful work of art about identity, heritage, and the complex relationship between Africa and France. Tiken Jah had a way of putting it, though, where you couldn’t help but smile; the truth is ridiculous. My dad would laugh through the whole album. To this day, Fakoly waves the flag of Ivory Coast in the reggae world with music I hold dear for the memories it triggers. 

Fela Kuti

The Best of the Black President (2009)

The cover is iconic—Fela Kuti, shirtless, bathed in golden light, his face a mask of determination and defiance. It’s an image that captures the essence of Fela’s music and his life—powerful, unapologetic, almost transcendent. The lighting makes him look like a deity, which, in many ways, he was to the world of African music. It reminds me of the power of presence, of owning who you are and what you stand for. In my films, I aim to capture moments of similar power and authenticity, inspired by this image of Fela with his saxophone.