I’m Not Sure What I’m Looking At… But I Can’t Stop Staring.

On the left — a regal poodle, styled like a 17th-century duchess, its fluffy curls cascading in royal elegance, as if plucked from a bygone era of aristocratic splendor.
On the right — an old woman, weathered by time, her intense gaze cutting through the frame, a portrait of raw humanity and experience. Her features, deeply etched, reflect a life lived hard and unyielding.

Together, they share the cover of a grunge split single. It shouldn’t work, but somehow, it does.

The Jesus Lizard – “Puss”
Nirvana – “Oh, The Guilt”

Is this a real album cover or just a surreal piece of fan art? Hard to tell. But there’s something undeniably captivating about it. It doesn’t need to make sense, doesn’t need to fit into the neat, digestible mold of what an album cover should be.

It just needs to make you feel something. And this strange, imperfect image does exactly that. It’s a collision of worlds: one royal, one raw. One pristine, one weathered. A perfect representation of the grunge ethos—unapologetic, unrefined, and hauntingly beautiful.

Maybe that’s the point. Grunge didn’t care about making sense. It cared about authenticity, about feeling. This cover? It’s the epitome of that.

Sometimes art isn’t about the why—it’s about the what. And this? This is a feeling.