Alex de Campi: Gojira!

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COMICS & BOOKS

28.10.05 My Cracker Eden

Of late I have mostly been crying in music-film screenings. Walk The Line (the absolutely excellent Johnny Cash film, better than a Hollywood music film has any right to be) and Hustle & Flow both had me in tears, but then again I am known to cry in films at the slightest provocation. Walk The Line is an obvious weepie, but Hustle & Flow had me with actress Taraji Henson, who has one of the most open, honest, wonderful faces in film. There's a scene where she first hears her voice on a recording her boyfriend made, and the expression on her face is so sweet and genuine you just feel that you're right there with her.

All this has made me deeply nostalgic for the America of my youth, for this cracker Eden from whence I came. Perhaps it's just the ragged edge of exhaustion from juggling a writing career accelerating at exponential speed with part-time night work; perhaps it's the proverbial seven-year itch. I arrived in London from Hong Kong in September 1998; this is the longest I've been anywhere.

On the subject of cracker music, two recent alt-folk/alt-country releases by local UK bands are well worth your investment. I've been meaning to mention these for a week or two, but have barely had a spare moment:

The Eighteenth Day of May have finally released their debut album, and it's as great as their live shows promised. Download: Sir Casey Jones, Hide + Seek, Lady Margaret. A little bit Byrds, a little bit Mamas & Papas, a whole lot themselves. Go see them live, too. They play London all the time.

Magic Car's new album came out about 10 days ago. I was sent an advance copy (their label, Tiny Dog, also feature the most excellent Flipron) and "Baltimore" and "Biker's Lament" have both been getting huge airplay here on Planet Alex. No download service yet for Magic Car, sadly.

Alive: Even if you hate Devendra Banhardt, it's worth picking up some tickets to his show at the Astoria on 16 November, as the very fine Dirty Three (ex Bad Seeds) are opening. Nick Cave is in town at the minute publicising his new outback Western film, The Proposition, and there are rumours of various interesting people dropping by to play. Also, The Decemberists are playing a rare London gig the following night.

( 3:50 PM ) (0) comments

19.10.05 Rain, Your Rhythm On My Windowpane...

I have been hearing the seagulls from atop Primrose Hill; they make me maudlin for home. It's been one of those weeks in the city, and Sunday night at the Beloved Local, Mr Dunning and I were reading Murakami to strangers:

"This occurs to me while I'm riding the Yamanote Line. I'm standing by the door, holding on to my ticket so I won't lose it, gazing out the window at the buildings we pass. Our city, these strets, I don't know why it makes me so depressed. That old familiar gloom that befalls the city dweller, regular as due dates, cloudy as mental Jell-O. The dirty facades, the nameless crowds, the unremitting noise, the packed rush-hour trains, the gray skies, the billboards on every square centimetre of available space, the hopes and resignation, irritation and excitement. And everywhere, infinite options, infinite possibilities. An infinity, and at the same time, zero. We try to scoop it all up in our hands, and what we get is a handful of zero. That's the city. That's when I remember what that Chinese girl said.

This was never any place I was meant to be.

[...] Tokyo - one day, as I ride the Yamanote Loop, all of a sudden this city will start to go. In a flash, the buildings will crumble. And I'll be holding my ticket, watching it all. Over the Tokyo streets will fall my China, like ash, leaching into everything it touches. Slowly, gradually, until nothing remains. No, this isn't a place for me. That is how we will lose our speech, how our dreams will turn to mist. The way our adolescence, so tedious we worried it would last forever, evaporated.

Misdiagnosis, as a psychiatrist might say, as it was with that Chinese girl. Maybe, in the end, our hopes were the wrong way around."

( 4:36 PM ) (0) comments

17.10.05 October Mixtape: Mississippi Queens

I'm a little worried about this one. It's not like my others; not a high-concept, heavily mixed soundtrack to the non-existent. It's just 11 songs. Frankly, it wasn't what I intended to do at all. I was going to try mixing my own song from a bunch of esoterica I had: 1920s Southern fire and brimstone sermons, the bassline to an old Fugazi song, the odd Pet Sounds sample, some ragtime and blues. But to embark on such a new creative endeavour requires an unencumbered mind and a clear schedule, and right now these are luxuries I just don't have.

Instead, at the prompting of several people interested in my frequent declarations of love for the Blues, I present you with nigh on 100 years of music in one 37-minute primer. And this one's just the girls. You have to wait another month for the boys - and oh, gentle stranger, do I have a few things for you then.

Where the worry comes is that this mix is the most personal one I have made yet; these are songs that have gotten me through hell, high water and the odd heavy heart. I'm not as tough as I pretend, and I'm worried you may not like these old, treasured things of mine. "St Louis Blues", "Easy Money", "Black Coffee"... all of these songs are like a part of my soul.

Liner notes in the usual place, but meanwhile stand up and put your hands together for the Mississippi Queens.

Please note: I have made this mix as a way of introducing friends to some music I adore and think should be better known. It will be put up for 30 days only. If you enjoy the mix, please purchase these or other tracks by the artists. If you are a rightsholder or the representative of one, and you object to this mixtape, please email me and I will take it down immediately. I am not making money off this, and I do not have lawyers.

( 5:54 PM ) (0) comments

15.10.05 Madam I'm Adam

Blah blah blah October mixtape soon blah download old one before it goes away blah. Meanwhile, PRETTY! From my second Humanoids series, Adam In Chromaland, with Luigi di Giammarino drawing:

Adam is basically a total nightmare to draw. I freely admit that, art-wise, it is the hardest script I have ever done, simply because there is so much of it that requires a detailed and frankly nerdy knowledge of fine art, combined with my usual hamfisted attempts at visual innovation. But I knew Luigi was the perfect artist when he sent the pencils for Page 3, the first big crowd scene. He had stuck in a character I recognised from Hieronymous Bosch, as well as Edward Gorey's "Doubtful Guest". Edward Gorey! Gentle stranger, he UNDERSTANDS:

Mind you, he gets to draw dinosaurs stomping on space aliens, so don't feel too bad for him. (I love what I do.)

( 12:50 AM ) (0) comments

7.10.05 In a while, crocodile

I'm busy. I'll talk to you later. Meanwhile, have a picture of a cute cyborg girl:

From Ed Ocana's sketches for MESSIAH COMPLEX, my big sci-noir epic from Humanoids.

( 5:27 PM ) (0) comments

5.10.05 2D Animator Needed

I promised to direct a music video for a quite excellent local band and - to make a long and frustrating story short - have just had to part ways with the animator I'd been working with.

Anyone who is a skilled, professional animator and interested in doing a black and white 2D, retro/Steamboat Willie-style animation for a short song, contact me on the address found here. Video is a slapstick mix of 70s disaster films-meets-Bunuel-meets-Hanna Barbera.

This is unpaid; showreel-only stuff, but it will get a lot of promotion from the band and their label as well as from myself.

In other news, the last big thing I've been waiting on to announce my 2006 projects has just been greenlit, so in a few weeks I'll be able to tell you about the four series I have beginning next year. There will be pretty art to show, too.

( 4:08 PM ) (1) comments

3.10.05 You want comics? Fine.

You may have noticed I never talk about comics here. That's generally because all my (limited) energy in that regard goes to doing reviews on Ninth Art. Last week I talked about Lady Snowblood, and this week I rattle on about The Quitter, Bone Sharps, and Peng.

I went a little too New Journalism this week's batch of Ninth Art reviews (Grover Lewis is fairly spinning in his grave). They got pretty heavily edited, and deservedly so. For your amusement and delectation, here is my Peng review in its uncut edition:

"Picture this: I'm kicking around San Diego on the Thursday of SDCC after spending a week in LA, and I'm dead flat broke. The evening before was something colloquially known as The Night Of A Thousand Martinis (kids, don't try this at home) and both my wallet and my head were feeling pretty abused. Over at the Oni booth, I pick up pretty, shiny books and dazedly put them down again. I want both Scott Pilgrim 1 (I had Vol. 2 already) and Sharknife. I can't think. I look in my wallet: nothing but $10 and some dude's phone number. Finally I decide: Sharknife. I gave my money to the Oni folks and asked them about the status of a pitch I have in with them. They just laughed and said, "That'll be $9.99."

Well, it was love at first sight, me and Sharknife. It's the comic equivalent of a teenager on a sugar high, with action, love, a soliloquy on gangster fashion, and not a bad little soundtrack in the back. I've been waiting eagerly for Sharknife 2 as well as Corey Lewis' next project, Peng (an extreme kickball story). Featuring Lewis standbys like ridiculously awesome names ("Rocky Hallelujah"), talking vomit, great one liners, stupidly over the top videogame-style fight scenes, and hot chicks, Peng is the book you need to own. The world owes Corey Lewis a living, so go do your part. Check out a five-page preview here.

If you like Lewis' stuff, might I also suggest Kaneko Atsushi's ace manga Bambi and her Pink Gun? It's out from newish publishers Digital Manga, and is about a hot punk chick with a pink gun, a kid in tow, and a price on her head, and guest stars Puffy AmiYumi - it's a J-pop chickfest in 100-decibel glory.

Oh, the follow-up to my tale of Oni shopping woe? The next day, my mate the Famous Indie Artist drags me back to the stall, says howdy to the Oni lads, and walks off with 20 free books. Sigh. A gal just can't get a break. But still, that $10 was the best Hamilton I dropped in all of San Diego."

Compare.

( 12:30 PM ) (0) comments

1.10.05 The Sweet Smell of Shellac

I've been cantering down one of my cul-de-sacs of musical obsession recently - ancient blues and gospel on 78 - and yesterday afternoon Mr Love and I managed to spend $150 of each other's money in the course of a single IM conversation. This is not good, because while Mr Love is a rising star of TV and film and can afford these things, I'm just a broke pulp-fiction writer who works nights to keep her head above water.

Anyhow. I opened with how Mr Love needed this compilation, especially Bessie Brown's "Song from a Cotton Field". Pshaw, he said. Already heard it. So I upped the ante: well, nobody's really lived until they've heard the Reverend A.W. Nix sermonizing about the Black Diamond Express Train to Hell, as found in this little number. See, Mr Love understands these things, so he immediately announced his intention to order this not inexpensively-priced item. He then said, well if you like old Southern gospel, you can't be without this. I succumbed.

Gentle stranger, be afraid of my next mixtape. Be very, very afraid.

Barry Lyndon was, as Coop says in his comment, utterly amazing. The cinematography was jaw-droppingly beautiful from the opening scene, and as a Class-A, card-carrying Art Nerd I was having fun matching Kubrick's framing and designs to well-known society portraits by Gainsborough and Reynolds. One of my few luxuries in life is the way I watch films: projected on the wall opposite my bed, six feet wide and four feet high. For some films, seeing it large doesn't really matter. But for Barry Lyndon, it made all the difference.

Oh, and I never should have doubted Cocteau or Melville. Les Enfants Terribles was as good as hoped, with some scene-framing devices that I will steal for use in comics in the very near future. Note that for some reason it's not available in America...

Wait! Drop everything! The Criterion Collection have finally gotten their act together and are releasing Melville's Le Samourai in the USA. Don't argue, don't question, just go buy this film. It is the seminal French film noir, a stripped-down, minimalist masterpiece; a story told in silences. It's also the inspiration for films like John Woo's The Killer (he rips off Le Samourai shot-for-shot in some places) and Besson's Leon the Professional.

From the Murakami story in the latest New Yorker: "Your work should be an act of love, not a marriage of convenience." Indeed. Good weekend, gentle strangers.