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namelessnumberheadman's "When We Leave We Will Know Where We've Been" front album cover detail

namelessnumberheadman: When We Leave We Will Know Where We’ve Been

Some design concepts arrive as images. This one began as a pair of words written across a notebook page: organic and electronic.


When Urinine Records asked me to design the debut album for namelessnumberheadman, the band described music that lived comfortably between acoustic warmth and electronic texture. Guitars, piano, and percussion intertwined with keyboards, loops, and understated production. Rather than choosing one visual language over the other, I became interested in finding a vocabulary that could hold both.


That idea guided every design decision. Typography combines my own handwritten notes with restrained geometric typefaces. Photography—much of it my own—is paired with technical diagrams borrowed from an old engineering text. Ruled notebook paper evokes sketches and schoolwork while also functioning as a subtle underlying grid. Throughout the package, intuitive marks and measured systems occupy the same space, allowing neither to dominate the other.


The imagery follows the same approach. Landscapes, weathered telephone poles, and quiet architectural interiors possess an unmistakably human softness. Against them sit diagrams, coordinate lines, and geometric constructions that suggest measurement, analysis, and order. The photographs themselves were intentionally aged, blurring the boundary between found artifacts and newly created images, as though memory and documentation had become inseparable.


What interested me wasn’t the tension between these worlds so much as their coexistence. The diagrams don’t explain the photographs, nor do the photographs illustrate the diagrams. Instead, each hints at a different way of understanding the same experience: one intuitive, the other analytical. Together they create a visual language that mirrors the band’s music, where acoustic instruments and electronic textures become less like opposites than complementary expressions of the same composition.


Looking back, I’m struck by how much the package preserves the design process itself. My notebook pages survive in the finished work—not only through the handwritten typography, but through the underlying premise that thoughtful design begins with observation, questions, and small discoveries accumulated over time. The album became less about illustrating songs than about giving form to the conversation between instinct and structure.

Ryan Kegley's logo, type set in New Spirit Semibold and featuring an illustration of a lesser prairie chicken wearing a crown

©2026 Ryan Kegley. All rights reserved.

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