In today's digital music landscape, where streaming platforms present an endless array of songs, album artwork remains a crucial element in capturing listeners' attention. Historically, album covers have served as visual gateways into the music, offering a first impression and setting the tone for the auditory journey ahead. From the iconic designs of the 1960s and 70s to today's digital thumbnails, album art has evolved but plays a significant role in marketing and aesthetic appeal.
The enduring significance of album art is exemplified by artists like Sahil Singh, known by his moniker @5aheeel. Based in Delhi, Sahil has emerged as a distinctive visual voice in India's underground music scene, collaborating with musicians such as Karun and Chaar Diwaari. His work transcends mere decoration, offering narrative depth and emotional resonance that complement and enhance the music they represent.
Delhi’s Hip-Hop Renaissance: A Canvas for New Voices
As India’s independent music scene matures, Delhi has established itself as a key player in the rise of desi hip-hop. The city pulses with a raw, unfiltered energy—one that’s captured not just in lyrics, but in the aesthetics that accompany them. Musicians like Seedhe Maut, Karun, and Chaar Diwaari (key figures in Delhi’s genre-bending hip-hop movement) are rewriting the rules of Indian rap, blending multilingual flows, sharp social commentary, and homegrown beats. At the heart of this sonic shift is a visual culture that's evolving just as fast.
Enter Sahil Singh—artist, storyteller, and one of the most sought-after illustrators in the city’s underground circuit. Sahil’s contributions go far beyond crafting cool visuals. He creates emotional landscapes that mirror the music’s intent. “I’ve grown up in Shahdara, still live here,” he shares. “For those who know what kind of place it is, know it’s all chaotic, very rural still, conservative… It’s become a love-hate relationship.”
That tension—between chaos and clarity, noise and nuance—is what breathes life into his work. While the music speaks of rebellion, identity, and belonging, Sahil’s covers become the face of that rebellion. They’re clean, curated, and emotionally loaded. As he puts it, “In my art, you’ll see the opposite [of Shahdara]. You’ll find that I try to keep it decluttered whenever I can.”
Through his lens, Delhi’s hip-hop scene isn’t just a movement—it’s a story unfolding frame by frame.
No Gatekeepers, Just Group Chats: How Connections Are Built in India’s Indie Scene
In an industry often perceived as impenetrable without the right contacts, Sahil Singh’s story offers a refreshing counter-narrative—one that highlights the organic, peer-driven nature of India’s evolving creative communities. His journey into album artwork didn’t begin with formal introductions or gallery portfolios; it began in conversations, Discord calls, and mutual shoutouts. “I crossed paths with Karun and Garv through mutuals,” he recalls. “Arpit Bala was one of my earliest supporters. He’d pitch my work to musicians he met.”
At just 16, Sahil was already gaining credibility—not because of clout, but because his art spoke for itself. It wasn’t long before he found himself working on 'Qabool Hai,' Karun’s introspective project, as a creative director. The pressure was real: “He initially intended to work with Sumit Roy or Prakhar. I was nervous about how I could even hope to make something on their level.” But the experience and the encouragement he received from his team built a sense of belonging in the scene.
His introduction to Chaar Diwaari (aka Garv) happened in the most Gen-Z way possible—on Discord. “Garv was a Teesri Duniya fanboy, playing his songs for everyone there,” Sahil laughs. That virtual exchange sparked one of Sahil’s most iconic collaborations: the cover for 'TERI MAIYAT KE GAANE.'
For emerging artists with no formal connections, Sahil’s trajectory is proof that community, consistency, and online presence can open doors. In the right circles, talent circulates. And often, all it takes is someone vouching for your name in a group chat.
When Music Shapes the Maker
For visual storytellers like Sahil Singh, music isn't just something to interpret—it's something that reshapes you, rewires you. It’s not uncommon to hear how songs change lives, but what's often overlooked is how those same tracks mould the artists who lend them their faces. For Sahil, it was Tabia by Prabhdeep that became more than just an album. “That album has been in my top 3 DHH albums of all time,” he says. “It shaped my ideology and the way I think about life.” Lyrics about uncertainty and inner peace gave him a visual palette of self-acceptance and quiet strength—proof that music can offer not only escape, but self-realisation.
This influence runs deeper than design—it spills into Sahil’s personal narrative and creative philosophy. As a Mona Sikh growing up in a deeply religious family, he struggled with feelings of spiritual exclusion. “I was made to feel like my connection to god was already severed,” he admits. But through 'Medallion,' his original storytelling project, Sahil reclaims that identity. Inspired by Sikh history, the Medallion of the Sun becomes a metaphor for self-worth and equality. Like Guru Gobind Singh Ji’s revolutionary declaration that all Sikhs are sovereign, Sahil’s Medallion tells its wearer: you are enough, you are powerful.
This merging of musical resonance and personal reclamation reveals the true potential of art: to heal the artist, to empower the wearer, and to echo the cause of community upliftment. For Sahil, music doesn't just speak to the audience—it creates a mirror for the creator.
Rendering the Invisible: Visualising ‘Schizophrenia’ Without the Tropes
When Chaar Diwaari approached Sahil Singh to design the cover for 'TERI MAIYAT KE GAANE,' specifically the track titled Schizophrenia, the challenge was layered. The term carries a heavy psychological and social burden—often misunderstood, misrepresented, and exploited for its visual “shock value.” But Sahil took a different route, opting not for distortion or chaos, but for empathy. “If I had to make an artwork based on it, I wouldn’t go for edgy or coarse visuals just for shock value,” he says. “I’d approach it more from the sufferer’s point of view—the loneliness, the confusion once the illusions fade.”
His visual interpretation focused on the internal rupture—the emotional residue left behind when something deeply felt turns out to be unreal. It's a quiet, haunting heartbreak that doesn’t scream through glitchy visuals but whispers through subtle tones of abandonment and misalignment. “That feeling of being a burden, or feeling like no one else can see things from your point of view, that’s what I’d want to explore,” Sahil adds.
Walking the Line: Between Personal Truth and Shared Vision
For Sahil Singh, the act of creation is often a delicate balancing act between his emotional truths and the narratives entrusted to him by musicians. As a visual artist working with deeply personal music, he knows the weight of translating someone’s sonic world into a single image. “I want the final piece to make both of us happy,” he shares, describing a process that’s equal parts intuition and empathy. Whether it's easing an artist's uncertainty or finding harmony between their vision and his, Sahil sees the exchange as sacred. “Garv’s been unsure about almost every cover I’ve made for him,” he admits, “but they always grow on him.”
This sensitivity, however, doesn’t come from nowhere. It’s born from his struggle with vulnerability. For years, Sahil avoided drawing moments from his life that felt too personal, too raw. “I was worried about being perceived as corny or cheesy,” he says, especially when it came to Medallion, his fictional universe steeped in philosophical themes, emotional wounds, and political allegory. “It’s scary to be judged or laughed at, almost as if you’re going on stage as a kid with a song you wrote yourself.”
From Soundwaves to Silhouettes: The Future Sahil Is Drawing
Today, Sahil Singh finds himself at an exciting crossroads—juggling high-profile album artwork with the evolving vision of his passion project, Medallion. While he's worked on visuals for some of the biggest names in the Indian music scene, his heart is set on something far more intimate. “My utmost attention lies with my brainchild,” he says, referring to Medallion, a fictional world built from emotion, philosophy, and mythic symbolism. Though he’s scaled back the rollout for now due to budget constraints, the ambition remains undiluted. “Whatever’s coming will still be better than anything I’ve put out so far,” he promises.
Yet even as he sharpens his mythos, Sahil remains deeply rooted in collaboration. His process is almost ritualistic—immersing himself in the beats, lyrics, and moods of a track until the visuals begin to appear in his head. “The beat and the vocals make the body and soul, but the cover—that gives your track a face,” he explains. It’s a face that isn’t just decorative, but definitive.
As he moves forward, Sahil is embracing a slower, more intentional rhythm. He’s no longer chasing volume; instead, he’s giving each project the time and space it deserves. Whether it's a T-shirt or a track cover, his goal is clear: to craft visuals that resonate deeply, personally, and permanently. The art, just like the music it supports, is no longer just about being seen. It’s about being understood.