Featured Essay: No Band Does Vinyl Packaging Like mewithoutYou

by Jackson Balling

We all have our reasons for loving vinyl. It’s a format you can hold close. There’s that special substance about it that demands attention and makes you feel like you’re getting something real, something tangible. 

When I look at my collection, mewithoutYou always stands out. Not just because their albums are excellent to listen to but because they physically look like they belong in an art gallery or some mythical “Vinyl Hall of Fame.” Each record meets the high standard the band has built up through their 21-year career (and beyond).

Even before becoming an obsessed fan, I was blown away by the attention to detail in their packaging. I stumbled on their sixth record, Pale Horses, at Pure Pop Records in Burlington, VT. It was June 2015 and I descended into the store’s subterranean space for my weekly browsing hour. Before long, the apocalyptic, haunting imagery gripped me as I flipped through the latest hardcore, punk, and rock albums. I left with a copy, unaware that it had pulled me into singer Aaron Weiss’s reflections on death, love, and the end times.

From then on, I was hooked. I started collecting each record, chasing that unique experience where the art and the physical product create beautiful harmony. That result of a band creating something expansive yet can be held in your hands. Doing so gave me an intimate look at how mewithoutYou’s music evolved from the chaotic energy of their early albums to the introspective, spiritual nature of their later work. A convert was born.

The first thing that grabs you when you hold one of their records is Vasily Kafanov’s artwork. Each album cover feels like an integral part of the music because, for all intents and purposes, the art chosen is a visual extension of the themes and emotions packed into the grooves. Take [Untitled], their final record, for example. Its surreal, frenzied cover mirrors the album’s raw energy and manic unpredictability. The band isn’t just content with filling space; they want to give what you’re hearing a visual life. That kind of detail makes you appreciate not just the songs but the entire world the band is building.

Their dedication to memorable packaging doesn’t end with the art; it extends to the quality of materials used. Every component makes you feel like you’re getting something with actual weight, built to last. The cardstock on their album covers isn’t flimsy or cheap. It’s sturdy and tactile, reinforcing the sense that you’re holding something that matters.

Then you have the interior sleeves. Rather than tossing in a lyric sheet and calling it a day. mewithoutYou goes above and beyond. On [Untitled], the inside of the sleeve is lined with hidden embossed artwork that you might not notice at first glance. But when you do? It’s like finding treasure in the margins. The band is telling you, “Yeah, we really care about this.” That’s the magic of their approach to vinyl packaging. It’s not just something you glance at; it’s an object to explore that rewards your attention.

And don’t even get me started on the booklets. These are also more than your typical lyric sheets. They are dedicated hymnals with unique font choices, textured finishes, and hidden details that make you want to dive deeper into every page. When you read Aaron’s lyrics alongside each listen, you dive beyond the words and into their context. It’s like opening a secret door to the album’s emotional core that reading lyrics online can’t quite match.

Unsurprisingly, the band’s choice of color variants and naming conventions matches the prompt of being thoughtful and creative. My copy of Brother, Sister is a purple-cyan swirl called “Galaxy Moon.” The seventh pressing of their debut LP, [A→B] Life, featured more abstract options like “Soil,” “Warmth,” and “Whisper.” The recent release for their post-farewell Live (vol. One) live album has beautiful (and aptly named) variants like “Flounder,” “Clear Pine,” and “Fisheye.”

Sometimes, getting a “clear” or “red” feels lucky when you buy a record instead of the standard black. But for mewithoutYou, color variations are usually themed to match the album and tie it all together. It makes the different pressings themselves into more than a collectible. They’re another way to extend the music into a visual space, for fans to feel more connected to what they’re holding.

Ultimately, what makes mewithoutYou’s vinyl packaging so unique is that it caters to the music nerd in all of us. There’s that deeper connection between the artist and the fan. You feel part of something larger than you can physically hold and experience. The consistency across their catalog means that you will get the same level of care and artistry no matter which album you own. It’s their signature statement, even after their farewell.

We live in a world where vinyl costs are rising, and quality is uncertain. And yet, mewithoutYou shows what’s possible when a band truly cares about the entire package. Their records are more than music on wax. It’s a piece of art, an object to be treasured. When albums are consumed digitally and forgotten, that’s something worth celebrating.

Jackson Balling is a Buffalo, NY native living in the woods near Durham, NC. He has written for Mind Equals Blown and now runs Blank Tapes, an alternative music zine that publishes essays and interviews hard-working North Carolina musicians. He’s also a fierce emo defender, Liverpool fan, and bassist in a band called TALL MOSS. Follow him on Bluesky at @blanktapes.co

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