Artwork by Ral Duke | Interview by Passion Dzenga From the graffiti-splashed streets of Barry Town to the vinyl shelves of hip-hop collectors worldwide, Ral Duke—born Sam Jones—has built a career out of merging worlds that shouldn’t fit but somehow do. Once an MC in a gritty South Wales crew, he swapped bars for blades, cutting together surreal collages that feel as cinematic as a 1970s Scorsese frame. His work has graced the covers of Westside Gunn, Ghostface Killah, The Alchemist, and countless underground heavyweights, cementing him as a quiet architect of the modern independent hip-hop aesthetic.Rooted in a DIY ethic learned in the Squid Ninjas days, Duke approaches each piece like a beatmaker—layering textures, flipping images, and knowing exactly when to stop before the magic is lost. Influenced as much by Wu-Tang and drum & bass as by Kubrick and boutique film restorations, he thrives in contrast: soulful samples over street grit, dream logic over hard reality.In this conversation, we talk about his Cardiff come-up, the social media leap that connected him to Griselda, the challenge of designing for both streaming thumbnails and 12-inch vinyl, and why surrealism is more than just an aesthetic choice—it’s a way of warping reality without losing the truth. You’re known creatively as Ral Duke, but also as Sam Jones. How did that alias come about, and how does it connect to your artistic identity?It started when I was an MC with my friends under the collective moniker Squid Ninjaz. The name came from Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas—Hunter S. Thompson’s alter ego was Raoul Duke. I liked the idea of warping reality with words, so it fit. With my Cardiff accent, “Raoul Duke” became “Ral Duke” for a sharper punch. It stuck ever since. You grew up in Barry Town, near Cardiff. What was the scene like when you started, and how did it shape your vision? Barry had its own gritty, raw style—very Wu-Tang inspired. The local music was dark and atmospheric, graffiti was everywhere, and all four pillars of hip-hop—MCing, DJing, breakdancing, graffiti—were alive. Drum and bass was also big in the area too. That environment influenced my taste, visuals, and even how I produce—keeping things true to the textures around me. Before designing album covers, what did your early art look like? Was collage always your thing?My art came out of necessity. In my crew Squid Ninjaz, we were very DIY with all aspects of our craft—we made the beats, the raps, and the artwork ourselves. Collage came naturally, and I see it a lot like making beats—layering pieces to create something new. I started with physical collage from old magazines, but shifted to digital as tech got better. I still collect magazines for texture and want to return to more hands-on work. How is making a collage similar to making music, and how do you know when it’s finished? Both are about taking separate parts and combining them to tell a new story. I love contrast—like soulful samples with heavy street lyrics, or luxury images with real-life grit. As for knowing when it’s done, it’s instinct, like cooking. You stop before you overdo it. Sometimes the simplest ideas hit hardest. How did you branch out from the Cardiff scene into working with US artists like Westside Gunn and Ghostface Killah?Social media. I was a fan of Westside Gunn early on and responded to his open call for an album cover. He didn’t use my first submissions, but a few days later, he DM’d me for a specific track cover. That led to work with Conway, Benny the Butcher, Alchemist, and Ghostface. Do you approach each project the same way, and how is it different working locally with friends like Earl Jeffers versus US artists? I go off the vibe of the project—sometimes highly detailed and layered, other times stripped down. With Earl, we work in person, bouncing ideas in real time. With US artists, it’s all remote, so the brief is usually clearer from the start. Your work blends music culture, photography, and surrealism. Why is surrealism important to you, and what inspires your visuals outside of music? Surrealism lets me show alternate versions of reality, making unlikely elements work together to tell a story. Outside of music, I’m heavily inspired by 70s cinema—directors like Scorsese and Kubrick. I collect boutique 4K restorations of cult films from labels like Arrow Video and Second Sight. How has the shift from physical album covers to small digital thumbnails changed your work, especially in the independent hip-hop scene? On streaming, simplified images read better at small sizes, but I still design with vinyl in mind. Hip-hop vinyl collecting is huge again, and with independent artists, covers are now treated as art rather than just marketing. Working directly with artists—no middleman—means the visuals stay true to the music. Would you like to take your art beyond album covers?Definitely. I’d love to do a concept gallery show in my hometown, like a conceptual exhibition with a unified story. Are there concepts you’ve wanted to make but couldn’t, and do you ever revisit old pieces? Some client ideas are too ambitious for collage and need illustration. For my own work, I push until I’m happy—if not, I start over. I don’t revisit old pieces; they’re time capsules of who I was then.Have you included unexpected elements in your work, and how does meme culture play into it? Once I put a dog with three eyes in an Alchemist cover. My search history is full of weird finds. People have turned my covers into memes—like edits of Benny the Butcher covers—but while memes are quick hits, I aim for lasting aesthetic impact. How does it feel to be seen as part of Griselda’s aesthetic?Proud and humbled—especially when Alchemist asked me to do the Hall & Nash 2 cover because he saw me as part of that era.Should people experience your work with the music or separately? Both together is ideal—like when you buy a record because the cover grabs you.What’s next for you? I want to keep cooking in the street wear world working with brands that fit that hip hop aesthetic. I feel like I am bringing a unique take in that area. I’m working with my brother and local actor Lloyd Everitt (as seen in Alien Earth!) on poster design for his directorial debut. Keep cooking these album covers up! And me and my brother Mickey Diamond been cooking some new music together. Finally, what advice would you give younger artists blending music and visuals?Keep going. Do it because you love it. Consistency is everything—most people drop off, but if you stick with it, opportunities come.
