Jyoty - The Listening Room

Born in Amsterdam to Indian parents and raised between Bollywood soundtracks, Qawwali, Dutch hip-hop and the soundsystem culture of her Moroccan and Turkish neighbourhood, Jyoty’s relationship with music has always been shaped by movement between worlds. In this episode of The Listening Room, the DJ and broadcaster traces the moments that formed her musically — from hearing Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan in her mother’s living room and Bhangra at family weddings, to discovering Dutch rap, electronic music and eventually finding herself inside the sweaty basement of Dance Tunnel, the legendary Amsterdam club that helped shape her understanding of dance music culture.

The A1 Denim Polo Tour continues with Stop 2 landing in Amsterdam this Saturday, 23/05/26 from 11AM. Join us at Patta Amsterdam for a day celebrating classic sportswear, community, and mainline essentials. We’ll be giving away free Polos on a first come, first served basis while stocks last, so make sure to arrive early. Alongside the giveaway, a selection of Mainline A1 Denim will be available to purchase in-store throughout the day.

To celebrate a successful Bijlmer Run, and the 5th year anniversary of the event - the Patta Running Team hosted the first offical Bijlmer Run afterparty as seen by Mazen El Majdoubi. A winners and a birthday party in one, soundtracked by Stevie Tune, Jay B, AK Soundsystem, Hernsy and Lil' Vic. 

The expansion of rap music during the 1990s into the mid 2000s is widely regarded as a defining period in the development of rap music, often described as its “golden era” due to the scale of innovation and originality achieved during this time. The rise of regional styles from Brooklyn, New York to Long Beach, California gave different cities their own sound and point of view, moving rap beyond a single center and creating a genre that was relatable to people from urban environments all over the world. From groups like the Wu-Tang Clan, M.O.P, The Lox and Dipset to artists like Nas, Shyne, DMX and DJ Kay Slay; Clay Patrick McBride’s unique time spent with the artists during a developmental phase in their careers has been collected in “Triumph: Icons of Rap”. Showcasing nearly two decades of photographs of the most iconic rappers earlier in their lives.Living Proof has worked with Clay Patrick McBride to release a book on photographs documenting the golden era of rap’s defining artists during the creation of their most pivotal works, drawn from sessions Clay spent with the artists in their early years and magazine campaigns from the era’s best. The book includes test polaroids, original contact sheets and never before seen collages from the artists personal scrap book; as well hand written thank you letters from the talent. Living Proof - Triumph available now at Patta London.

A new frequency, RADIO Z. Ray Fuego and Dio are taking over with a pirate broadcast in the form of an album. Produced by Kabul $lim. RADIO Z is already planned to change Lowlands forever, but before that, they will have their one and only performance in Amsterdam.   25th of June, Skatecafe - don't miss out and get you tickets here.

Words: David Kane, originally published in Patta Magazine Volume 6Isimeme “Easy” Otabor selects Nas’ timeless classic as his ‘cover story’, a long-running collaborative column between Wax Poetics and Patta. Illmatic is a fitting first in the series to feature in Patta Magazine.At this point, there’s little we can say about Nas’ Illmatic that hasn’t already been said. Nasir bin Olu Dara Jones aka Nasty Nas, aka Escobar, was aged just 20 when he released his musical masterpiece to an unsuspecting world with a little help from his producer friends — DJ Premier, L.E.S., Pete Rock, Q-Tip, and Large Professor (who must be kicking himself for turning down the opportunity to executive produce the record) — which has gone on to transform hip-hop, modern music and the wider pop culture canon.  Yet despite more than 30 years of lore-building, there are still some lesser-known aspects of the album and the greater cultural fabric it is woven into — and the millions of people's stories it continues to soundtrack.Otabor is a Chicago-born curator and gallerist whose work bridges contemporary art, fashion, and community-forward programming. “Born and raised in Hazel Crest in the south suburbs. My parents are both from Nigeria — first generation — they came here in their early twenties and tried their best to make a way for us. I started in sneakers, working at all the sneaker stores as soon as I could get a work permit. “I went to school for fashion, worked at RSVP Gallery with Don C and Virgil (Abloh), and learned by doing whatever needed to be done. That led to (the clothing brand) Infinite Archives and then Anthony Gallery, named after my dad,” he explains over a call from Florida. He’s often on the move, listing off Amsterdam (where he recently launched the second Anthony Gallery), Berlin, London, and Tokyo as recent destinations. Something of a Japanophile, Easy’s initial touchpoints into art came through anime like Akira, Fist of the North Star, and then Takashi Murakami, thanks to his work on the cover art for fellow Chicagoan Kanye West’s Graduation album. Easy credits his brother Ade for his omnivorous approach to culture. “He introduced me to Illmatic — really, all the music I know came through him. I was lucky to have a brother who knew what was happening, who was open to different sounds and always tuned into what was next.” The Illmatic cover operates as a kind of cultural Rorschach — the same image, endlessly reinterpreted. For some, it’s a portrait of lost innocence; for others, a map of inevitability, where place and identity are already fused. What you see says as much about you as it does about Nas.“Honestly, whenever I think of Illmatic, I think of that cover first. There’s a quote I can’t fully remember, but it’s about true genius being found in simplicity. You see where Nas grew up, merged with a childhood photo, those piercing eyes — but also this sense of knowing what he was about to do. Even the background, driving through his neighborhood, all comes together. It’s a perfect blend. You feel like you see yourself in it. No matter where you’re from, you can relate to that feeling of reflecting on your past while being ready for the future, and the present.”The 30th anniversary of Illmatic in 2024 coincided with a global tour, a 7” boxset release, and the publication of a cluster of new and archived content celebrating the record, including a musty interview recording with Nas’ father. In one video, Olu Dara, a successful jazz musician in his own right, recalled the moment the photo was taken. It was when he returned to the States after a long tour in Europe, found Nas and his brother in Queensbridge, who both excitedly ran towards him.  Olu said he saw it in Nas’s eye — “his mind was saying, wow, what a world.” In addition to Olu — who in the same recording mentions a “man with a camera” rather than explicitly claiming to have taken the photo himself, as is popular belief — the artwork was part of a cross-generational collaboration that included photographer Danny Clinch, with art direction by Jo DiDonato, and design by Aimée Macauley — the latter two, employees of Columbia Records. Clinch photographed Nas and his crew in Queensbridge, the largest housing project in the US. Six images appeared across the original vinyl and CD releases.According to Large Professor, speaking to DJ Vlad, the portrait of Nas, in which his hand obscures his face — complete with a small rip — was always meant to be the cover. The tear was accidental. “He had it under a piece of glass, and I guess when he went to grab it, the glass must’ve stuck right there, so that’s the rip right there.” It stayed because it felt right.Illmatic is widely considered to be the first of many hip-hop album covers to feature a child — from Biggie through to Lil Wayne, and Kendrick Lamar. Ghostface would later infamously call out rappers (supposedly Big) for biting the cover art during a skit on Raekwon’s Only Built 4 Cuban Link. Though Nas later dismissed the critique — but it’s not the first outside the genre.When I send Easy a Discogs link to A Child Is Born (1972) by The Howard Hanger Trio, he chuckles at the artwork. “If I had to guess,” he says, “it’s probably a record his dad had in his collection.” The resemblance to Illmatic is uncanny: a child’s face, roughly the same age, gazing directly at the viewer, superimposed over a crumbling city street. Musically, it’s a deep, almost spiritual modal jazz record, featuring eerie interpretations of Simon and Garfunkel’s Scarborough Fair, and Eleanor Rigby, by The Beatles.When it surfaces, A Child Is Born now sells for three figures, likely inflated by its accidental proximity to one of hip-hop’s most revered LPs. The trio released just three albums between 1970 and 1977 before quietly disappearing. Howard Hanger himself came from a lineage of principled Methodist ministers; a family history marked by civil rights activism, anti–Vietnam War protest, and the defence of same-sex unions. No official link has ever been acknowledged between the two covers. Which only reinforces the point: the difference isn’t what you take — it’s whether you make it yours.The red thread here might just be family. As Easy explains, “My older brother changed my life. I probably wouldn’t be where I am without him. Even recently, with a Jordan release, I made sure it landed on his birthday.” Easy’s referring to the 2025 release of the Infinite Archives x Air Jordan 17 Low, inspired by the OG model by Wilson Smith, the first Black sneaker designer for the Jordan brand.Long before culture was flattened into clicks and stories, Easy Otabor was dedicating himself to moments — overlooked and era-defining — that once felt abundant and now feel increasingly rare. As for Illmatic today?“I go back to it all the time. There are just so many records on there — ‘Life’s a Bitch’, ‘The World Is Yours’, ‘Halftime’, ‘It Ain’t Hard to Tell’. The whole album stays in rotation. So when the question came up about album covers and what they mean, it was a no-brainer.“It’s as timeless as the record itself. It taught me not to overdo it — that less really can be more, and sometimes more powerful than anything complicated. Every time I look at it, everything stands still for a moment.” 

Interview by Passion Dzenga and Liesje VerhaveLaunching in 2021, Echobox has been forging a path for community radio by showcasing the diverse characters and concepts that surround their station. In this feature, we will be looking into one of the broadcasts that you can tune into, so get locked in and don’t touch that dial. Among them is Sophie Straat Hit Squad, a broadcast that feels less like a traditional radio show and more like a personal diary set to sound. Known for her sharp lyricism, multimedia approach and the self-built world of Protest Fest, Sophie Straat doesn’t separate curation from creation. Whether she’s programming a festival at Paradiso, touring across Europe, or stepping behind the decks, the thread remains the same: instinct over formula. Her Echobox residency wasn’t born out of a lifelong radio ambition; in fact, she admits she initially dreaded the idea of “having to listen to music again.” But somewhere between R&B deep dives, themed playlists about “winning,” and rediscovering the pleasure of listening without overthinking, the show became a reset button.Sophie Straat Hit Squad operates in the grey areas, where personal taste meets politics, where pop stages follow DIY rooms, and where a Justin Bieber record can sit comfortably alongside experimental drums or Gnawa rhythms. It’s less about making “social messaging music” and more about standing for something without announcing it. As she puts it, the artists she gravitates toward might not call themselves protest acts, but they represent what she stands for, and that’s enough. In this conversation, we speak to Sophie about rediscovering joy through radio, growing up in De Pijp, building Protest Fest into something tangible, and why identity is never fixed.What made you want to start a radio show, and what space did Echobox give you that you didn’t have before?Well, it was never really my dream to start a radio show. They asked me and I thought it was quite fun to do. What I like about it is that… I’m a musician, so I listen to music differently. Lately, I kind of lost my interest in music because I’m always working. When you listen to music, you’re always actively listening, and I lost the fun in it.I was actually really not looking forward to my radio show because I thought, oh yeah, shit, I have to listen to music again. But then, when it was coming up, I started listening to easy listening music. R&B, soul, indie kinds of places, and then I enjoyed it again. It’s fun. And it’s also like… people always have this image of you as a musician and what you listen to, and it’s fun to show them what you listen to. Do you get what I’m saying?The last show I did, I recorded yesterday, it’s for Thursday because I’m not in town, but I feel like that really represents how I feel now. I feel like every show is kind of like that. The description isn’t really correct, but every show is themed. Two shows ago, it was themed around “winning” because Zohran Mamdani got the win in New York, so I curated a playlist with a winning theme.So it’s both. It’s fun to curate a playlist in different ways, whether it’s something that happened, or how you’re feeling, or whatever. That’s what’s nice about music. When people ask what you listen to, it’s never one thing. It’s a billion things. And that’s what’s nice about curating.You curate in a lot of spaces, including Protest Fest. When it comes to your radio show, are you more open-minded to include things that are just “good music,” even if it doesn’t connect to the social lens people associate with your work?That’s a very complex question because “good music” is not really describable. And also, Protest Fest isn’t really only… what did you call it? Social messaging. When I make music myself, the goal isn’t to make social-message music. I make music, and it happens to be social-messaged. And in a way, the artists I listen to, they could fit into Protest Fest. And the lineup this year is Asma Hamzawi, who’s a Gnawa artist from Morocco, and Able Noise, which is experimental drums and vocals. They’re not really out there to be protesting or something, but I feel like they represent what I stand for. And that could be anything.After half a year of doing Echobox shows, how has the concept evolved for you? Are you more into collaborations and guests now?Yeah, I think next time I’ll take a guest. I’m always open to taking guests. It’s just that the show always comes up, I see it in my calendar and I’m like, oh shit, I have to do Echobox. And then I go up there and I just play the music that I feel like playing. But I was thinking to take a guest next time.Have you ever freestyled a show and it turned out better than expected?Terrible yeah. I’ve had that a couple of times, actually. Most times. Actually, most times. But yesterday I did prepare and it was really nice. So I’m going to do that more often. It wasn’t different than if it would be live because I still had to do it within an hour, but… because I haven’t listened to music in a while, it felt fun again. I tried to listen to music without thinking, and that was really nice for once. Listening to music that’s pleasant and not complicated or complicated in a way, but just… not thinking.What’s your relationship with community radio? Were you listening to stations like Red Light Radio before you had your own show?Not really Dutch or Amsterdam community radio, to be honest. Red Light Radio was always there and I’ve been a couple of times, but I don’t really have like a famous past with it or something.You grew up in De Pijp. How did that shape your taste? Do you play local artists, or are you more interested in the global conversation around music?De Pijp didn’t really influence… I guess. I mean, I’ve been raised by my mom but also by my neighbours and like my best friend’s mom, and she listened to a lot of Dutch hip-hop and rap, and that was the first music I listened to if I think about it. So in a way De Pijp influenced me because we were always over there, but I’m not sure if the neighbourhood introduced me to music I still listen to. But I think it’s interesting that you’re raised not only by your parents but also the people around you, and then after that, you choose the people around you that form you. That forms your musical interest as well. Life passes and you meet people, and those people have an influence on your taste and curiosities. The different lives you have within one life bring insights, music and tastes. That’s what I really like about it.You’re on tour right now. What kind of music do you listen to when you’re not working?It could be anything. And I’m not the only one choosing. It depends on how we’re feeling and what people want to listen to. I’m really looking forward to Jebba’s album; it’s coming out the day our tour starts, so I know I’m going to listen to that on the first day. Usually, when we’re on our way home, either we’re really tired and don’t listen to music, or we’re hyped and then my guitarist, Los, comes in with his awful playlists. It could literally be anything. I don’t know how to answer that.Do you listen to your own music?I listen to it for practice. Sometimes I listen to it with other ears, as you place yourself within someone else, but not really for fun. When it’s not released yet, I listen to it a lot the whole day, on my bike, in the train, I can’t stop. And then when it’s released, I’m like… over it.On tour, who controls the aux? Who’s the dominant one on the speaker?That’s funny you say that because… Justin Bieber actually got me out of that not-wanting-to-listen-to-music thing. I listened to this record, and I was like, oh yeah, I enjoy this again. The latest is Swag 2, which is also a great name. But yeah, I could be dominant, but I guess I’m the most dominant one with the speaker.The tour starts in early March. What are you most excited for?I’m really looking forward to Protest Fest, obviously. And the first week is going to be fun because it’s four shows in a row, so we’ll get into it. It’s always fun, so it’s a good starter. Then… N is always good fun. And then two times Rotterdam, which is also fun. So the first week is going to be a really good start.And we’re going to do two radio shows during the tour, actually, during Rotterdam twice, we’re going to do Operator Radio, and then in Brussels, we’ll do Kiosk as well.Do you have any tour rituals or anything you do before being away and sleeping in strange places?We don’t sleep in that many strange places because we’re mostly touring here and in Belgium. I think we only sleep three times somewhere else: Brussels, Rotterdam and Groningen. But I really like that the only thing I have to think about is getting in the bus. That’s the only thing I’m doing in the month. I’m really looking forward to that, because when I’m not touring, I’m busy with a billion things, and this March is just about performing.You’re a multimedia person, photography, music, video, art school. When did sound become one of your main expressions?When I was at art school, I always loved music, but I think I always used music within projects. I don’t know, I suppose I always used music within projects and I use my other stuff within other projects. It’s one big mess. But if you ask my main medium: music. Definitely. That’s my job. That’s what I do every day.Your album title asks, “Who the hell is Sophie Straat?” So: who is Sophie Straat today?I feel like we’re all not one particular personality or secret identity. We have multiple sides to us. It would be terrible and destructive if we said we only have one part and one identity. We have to go out to our different personalities and not be filtered into one place. You can be one thing one day and a completely different thing the other day, and don’t get stuck in an identity crisis because it’s not you or whatever. I want to embrace that and be someone else when I want to be.This project feels different from your earlier work. What are you looking forward to on this tour? What will feel new?Everything is always different. We evolve, I hope, and don’t stick to one thing forever. This album’s been out for a few months, and we did one tour in DIY places, small rooms, and now we’re doing the big pop stages. So it’s the album again but in a different place, which is fun. It’s going to sound different because the sound system is different, the production is different. And I like how you can play the same stuff in a different place and it can be completely different.You’ve collaborated with everyone from Goldband to the Metropole Orkestra. What do you look for in collaborators and in guests for your radio show?Either they’re people I think are fun and I love them, usually friends, or I think they’re really cool and I want to hang out with them and I see it as a good excuse. It’s one of those.Protest Fest has been at Paradiso for a while, and it donates to charity. Why build that platform?It started out because I had my show there and I thought, I might as well bring some other bands because I have that place. It’s kind of like curating a radio show, because you think your music is cool and you want to show the rest as well. It’s very self-centered, I suppose, because you think you’re cool and you want to let people know what is cool. That’s how it started.Why was donating part of the idea, and why support MiGreat this year?When I’m calling it Protest Fest, I can’t really own all the money that’s given to me. And if you’re owning money, you might as well donate it. MiGreat is doing interesting stuff; it’s very active. When you donate to somewhere, you don’t really know what they’re going to do with it. But MiGreat tells you what you can do. We’re probably also going to do a workshop to be active. People always ask, what can I do, how can I help? and MiGreat really tells you what you can actively do, like marry someone without papers, or they have these examples that are active and solve stuff.Where does the “Hit Squad” name come from? Because you played Punjabi Hit Squad on the show too.Yeah, that’s where it’s from. First I wanted to play that song as a jingle every time I would start, but after a while I stopped doing that. But that’s where it came from.Tune in to Echobox, broadcasting from below sea level every week, Wednesday until Saturday.

Once again, the iconic Patta x New Balance Grey Days party took over Amsterdam. The night heated up with bites from Sichuan Territory, a live performance by Anysia Kym, and new and timeless sounds kept the crowd moving deep into the early hoursBetween chess games, familiar faces and standout moments, the unmistakable Grey Days energy brought everyone together for another evening we won't soon forget. Get familiar with Grey Days as seen by Aryan Hamyani.  

Shubeen returns to Skatecafe on June 6 for another annual gathering where the diaspora comes first. A three-room takeover dedicated to migrant sounds, global bass pressure and the communities that continue to shape nightlife from the margins outward.Created by Murkage Dave and Passion DEEZ, Shubeen is built for the people who grew up between cultures, across borders and inside scenes that never fully reflected them back. It’s a celebration of music as memory, migration and connection from soundsystem culture to club mutations, from leftfield classics to dancefloor chaos.Leading the charge are co-founders Murkage Dave & Passion DEEZ, reuniting after last year’s sold-out edition for a genre-hopping b2b spanning global club sounds, Hotep hip-hop, Dalston kebab-shop anthems and everything in between. Fresh off the release of his album Brut Thoughts and a headline show at Village Underground, Murkage Dave steps back into the booth alongside his club collaborator. Opening things up is Amsterdam-based Garnett, whose sets pull deeply from reggae, dub and dancehall traditions while pushing soundsystem culture into new territory.Flying in from Los Angeles, Bianca Oblivion arrives with the kind of high-pressure energy that has made her one of the most exciting selectors in global club music right now — packed with dubplates, razor-sharp blends and pure movement. Joining her is Yeimy, founder of Popolaclab, bringing a sound rooted in dembow, salsa, cumbia, merengue and reggaeton straight from Mexico.In 1900, dengdeng curates a sweat-drenched room full of rhythm, chaos and community alongside the unstoppable Cata.Pirata. The South African-born multidisciplinary artist and SKIP&DIE frontwoman whose sound travels freely between continents, scenes and identities.Tickets are live now and if you came last year, you already know not to wait for the inevitable Ticketswap panic.

Before Pen & Pixel became one of the most iconic design studios in hip-hop history, it began with a Xerox machine, a storyboard, and a willingness to experiment long before the technology was truly ready for it. In the early nineties, Southern rap was rapidly expanding beyond regional recognition, but visually, the culture still lacked an identity that matched its ambition. Pen & Pixel would change that forever.Shawn Brauch and his brother Aaron Brauch originally entered the world through Rap-A-Lot Records during a period when the label was operating at full intensity. Aaron had been working remotely with Rap-A-Lot founder James Smith while studying at Cornell — something almost unheard of at the time. “He had a laptop in 1990,” Shawn recalls. “That alone was crazy.” After graduating, Aaron moved to Houston full-time to help build Rap-A-Lot alongside James Smith and the rest of the team. Shawn, meanwhile, was working at an advertising agency and doing illustration work independently when Aaron called him with a simple request: could he storyboard a music video?The song was A Minute to Pray and a Second to Die. Shawn had limited experience with storyboards but agreed to try. That opportunity quickly exposed something larger. “I saw there was a deficit in Rap-A-Lot’s marketing,” he explains. “So I started sketching things, putting together album covers with Xerox machines, pen and ink, whatever we had access to.” What started as improvised visual problem-solving soon became a much larger operation. Rap-A-Lot had been outsourcing design work using early Photoshop, QuarkXPress and FreeHand systems at enormous cost. Shawn and Aaron proposed bringing that entire process in-house.The investment was massive for the time. “The Quadra 800 alone was around seventeen thousand dollars,” Shawn says. “The printer was almost three grand. The monitor was over two thousand. People forget how expensive this technology was back then.” Beyond the equipment itself, they also needed specialists who understood how to operate the systems. At that point, Shawn was still learning himself. But the limitations of the technology became part of what shaped the Pen & Pixel aesthetic. “This was Photoshop 1,” he explains. “You had layers, but once you clicked off the layer, it was stuck. There was no undoing things the way you can now. Every move had consequences.”That technical restriction forced a kind of disciplined experimentation. Shawn’s background in photography, illustration and architecture all began feeding into the work simultaneously. “We kept detailed notes on everything,” he says. “What worked, what crashed the machine, what effects you could push further. We were learning while building.” Eventually, that process evolved into a distinctive visual language filled with surreal compositions, metallic typography, explosions, reflections, diamonds, flames and impossible environments that felt larger than life. One of the earliest turning points came with Willie D’s Going Out Like a Soldier, a cover featuring the rapper posed in front of a burning Capitol building. “That was one of the first covers where people really started asking, ‘How did you do that?’” Shawn remembers. “Honestly, sometimes I still look at it and wonder how we pulled that off on those machines.”At the same time, Rap-A-Lot itself was expanding rapidly. The label was producing projects from the Geto Boys, Scarface, Willie D, Gangsta Nip and countless others at an exhausting pace. “It was sixteen, eighteen-hour days constantly,” Shawn says. “Everybody knew there was an opportunity happening.” Eventually, artists began arriving at Rap-A-Lot not just looking for record deals, but specifically asking about the artwork. That was the moment Shawn and Aaron realised the design work itself could become a business.After unsuccessfully pitching a partnership structure to Rap-A-Lot, the brothers decided to leave and build Pen & Pixel independently from their apartment dining room table. They purchased the same expensive equipment and committed fully. “When you’re building a business, the money doesn’t go into your pocket,” Shawn explains. “It all goes back into the company. That’s the painful part most people don’t understand.” For years, they survived by reinvesting everything while living modestly. The apartment quickly became too small. Then the house they upgraded to became too small too. Eventually, Pen & Pixel expanded into a custom-built 5,000-square-foot studio, followed by another 5,000-square-foot building across the street housing a photography studio, CD replication facilities, printing equipment and mastering labs.By then, Pen & Pixel had become much more than a graphic design studio. “People misunderstand what the company actually was,” Shawn says. “You could walk in with a DAT tape and your wallet, and we could take care of everything.” The company handled artwork, mastering, music videos, licensing, distribution, posters, packaging, transportation and security. The infrastructure became so complete that major labels like Universal and Relativity viewed a Pen & Pixel package as a stamp of reliability. “If an artist came in with Pen & Pixel behind them, labels knew the quality and systems were already there,” Shawn explains.Inside the studio itself, the atmosphere was chaotic, collaborative and relentlessly productive. Pen & Pixel was intentionally designed to overwhelm clients visually. Gold records, platinum plaques and posters covered the walls. “People would walk in and immediately feel like they were in the right place,” Shawn says. Artists often arrived with wildly different levels of direction. Some came with fully formed concepts, while others simply trusted the studio completely. Shawn compares the creative process to music production itself. “I’d explain to artists that Photoshop works like making a song,” he says. “You have your lyrics, drums, melodies and layers. We’re doing the exact same thing visually.”The process behind covers like 8Ball & MJG’s On Top of the World reveals just how complex that layering became. The famous cover featuring the Dodge Viper was assembled piece by piece. The car, owned by Suave House founder Tony Draper, was photographed separately in the studio to control reflections. 8Ball and MJG were photographed later while on breaks from touring. Pool tables, cues, reflections and lighting were all composited manually. “People think those covers were random chaos,” Shawn says. “But your eye knows when something is wrong. Everything had to be exact.”Not every project leaned into hyper-surrealism. When Destiny’s Child approached Pen & Pixel through Matthew Knowles, the assignment required restraint rather than excess. “The shoot was already done,” Shawn explains. “They needed retouching, backgrounds, effects. But you don’t need extreme effects when the women are already that beautiful.” The result was cleaner and more polished, proving Pen & Pixel’s range extended beyond Southern rap maximalism.Still, the studio’s most enduring work often came from the personalities surrounding Southern rap itself. Shawn remembers the Geto Boys as a collection of completely different energies forced into one explosive chemistry. Gangsta Nip’s dark horror-inspired persona directly influenced the roughness of his artwork. Meanwhile, Master P emerged as one of Pen & Pixel’s most important collaborators. “If you wrote the word entrepreneur in the dictionary, Master P should be beside it,” Shawn says. P’s relentless business instincts matched the studio’s own work ethic perfectly. Whether creating annual-report-style brochures for No Limit Sports or elaborate album packaging, the relationship was built on speed and trust.Cash Money Records brought another kind of energy entirely. Juvenile, BG, Turk and a very young Lil Wayne frequently moved through the studio while building what would become one of the defining rap dynasties of the era. Shawn vividly remembers Wayne arriving at the studio at just thirteen years old. “He always had this notebook with him,” he says. “He was constantly writing ideas and observing everything.” While others joked around, Wayne quietly studied the business around him. “You could tell immediately he was serious.”That spirit of experimentation extended beyond the covers themselves. Pen & Pixel’s creative process often involved anyone present becoming part of the work. Staff members modelled for covers. Friends became characters. Employees brought bikinis to shoots. For Master P’s Ghetto D, another artist volunteered to portray a crack addict surrounded by burning CDs and tapes. “He knew exactly how to look,” Shawn laughs. “Garbage bag pants, dirty sweater, ashy teeth — he fully committed.” That original version later had to be censored for retail stores like Walmart, forcing the studio to redesign parts of the artwork entirely.As the company grew, Pen & Pixel developed systems that resembled a high-functioning advertising agency more than a traditional art studio. Every client had detailed job folders tracking concepts, production schedules, budgets and revisions. Massive press proofs were printed, hand-cut and assembled before being physically tested inside record stores to see how they competed visually on shelves. “We obsessed over possession,” Shawn explains. “If someone held the cover for more than five or six seconds, the chances of them buying the CD increased dramatically.”That philosophy became central to Pen & Pixel’s influence. The covers were designed not simply to look impressive, but to interrupt people visually. “You wanted someone flipping through CDs to stop and say, ‘What is this?’” Shawn says. “At that point, the job was already done.”When Pen & Pixel eventually closed in 2003, Shawn initially assumed the story had ended. He stepped away from the industry entirely, moved to the Virgin Islands and taught scuba diving for a period. But over time, the imagery began resurfacing online, first ironically and then reverentially. Younger audiences started recognising the craftsmanship behind the work rather than dismissing it as excessive nostalgia. “People would say, ‘I hated those covers so much I bought the CD,’” Shawn laughs. “But the point is — you bought the CD.”Today, Pen & Pixel’s visual language has become inseparable from the mythology of Southern rap itself. Beyond the chrome text and exploding backgrounds, the company represented a moment where regional rap scenes visualised their ambition without limitation. Every cover promised scale, success, wealth, danger and fantasy all at once. Looking back, Shawn sees the work as an extension of something much older: the tradition of iconic album art itself.“When I was a kid, I’d sit there listening to records and staring at the sleeves,” he says. “Pink Floyd, Fleetwood Mac, Supertramp — those covers stayed with you. You’d study them while the music played. One day, I thought, imagine designing something that makes people feel like that. And somehow, eventually, we did.”Check out Wax Poetics' new collection by Pen & Pixel!