Letters From Little Rock

Kirby: King of Comics was clearly a labor of love to Mark Evanier. Most people who read this blog probably have a pretty good idea of who Jack Kirby was, they probably know of a half dozen comic characters he created from Captain America to the Incredible Hulk to Darkseid. I would wager most of the people reading this blog probably don’t know much about Mark Evanier despite the fact that he is something of a celebrity in the world of comics having been a prominent presence at he San Diego Comic Convention pretty much forever (not to mention being the co-creator of Groo, one of the longest running creator owned comics of all time). Mark Evanier broke into comics as Jack Kirby’s assistant right about the time that Kirby left Marvel Comics for DC Comics and was present for the creation of some of Jack Kirby’s most innovative and beautifully designed comics ever. Kirby: King of Comics is not an in-depth biography of Jack Kirby, it is not a tell all expose, it is not even a thorough critical analysis of Kirby’s work. Of course it wasn’t intended to be either; it was intended to be a gorgeous art book that celebrates what was best about Jack Kirby and provides a certain amount of context for the pages (the many, many pages) of Kirby art that appear here. In that it succeeds wonderfully. It does, however, leave me wanting desperately to read the full biography that Evanier has been working on for years now. I’m not the sort of person that is eager to read all about a celebrity’s dirty laundry, but I would like to read a somewhat more candid account of Kirby’s side of several major conflicts that had an impact on the entire comics industry. I would also like to know a little more about Kirby’s response to the absolute abuse to which he and his work were subjected in the late seventies and early eighties. To me those are the interesting things that were either glossed over or not mentioned at all. The discontent Kirby felt during the end of his partnership with Stan Lee is well documented elsewhere and probably does not warrant much more mention in a book of this type and the dispute over the ownership of his original art is the stuff of industry legend so I can also understand that it didn’t receive full treatment here. But his response to the scorn and abuse that were heaped upon him at Marvel Comics after his return to the company in ’75 is something that has never really been put before the public. To be sure it is a small period of his career, but to return to a company that was making monstrous profits off of characters and concepts that were his (at least 85% of the entire output of the company at the time was the continuation of series and characters he had originated in the sixties) and to have Xeroxes of his current work defaced and posted on bulletin boards in the editorial offices must have been bitter indeed. Mind you this isn’t really a criticism. I’m certain that the full biography that Evanier is working on will give full treatment to these items; he has just piqued my curiosity to an unbearable degree, that’s all.

I feel I should reiterate that this is a gorgeous art book. My only real complaint is the complaint that can’t be helped; I wish there were more art in the book. When you stop to think about how many pages of Kirby art there are (he reportedly drew around 25 pages of comic art per week for over 25 years) you could easily fill ten books this size with rare and wonderful art. And I’ve seen a lot of this art before, but never reproduced this well or this large. It looks as though even some of the black and white art has been reproduced in full color. There are several pages that have paste ups and printers notes on them that show how carelessly comic book art was treated at times. I was especially glad to see so much of his pencil art reproduced here. As well regarded as his work is now it may need to be pointed out that in the seventies, even his best work was often dismissed as crude and ugly. Almost all of the positive criticism dealt with it as a progenitor of the psychedelic art of the sixties. It was certainly that, but that was a tiny part of what it was. For all of the talk about Kirby not being much of an anatomist, his characters all had movement and in many cases possessed more anatomical correctness than the static flayed figures of his peers. The flesh of a body is fluid in motion and Kirby captured that perhaps more fully than any other artist in any medium. It is also easy to tell from these full page reproductions of his pencil art that there are many types of shading that would have been impossible to ink for reproduction with the state of technology in comics printing in the sixties. To see those pages so lovingly reproduced here makes you stop to think what his work would have looked like if his peak had only come a decade or so later.

I’m not normally a fan of derivative works, but this particular use of the Garfield comic strip sends evil laughter roaring up and down my street, much to the chagrin of my neighbors. Actually I’ve always despised the strip. To be fair that is at least in part just my normal snobbish response to anything that is too popular for its own good. That and the soulless evil of the entire enterprise. Oddly enough I actually preferred U.S. Acres.

As I wrote here William Messner-Loebs was once one of the hottest writers in comics. Lately he has fallen on hard times. I mentioned in my earlier post that I had ordered copies of his two trade paperback collections of his independent comic, Journey, and was wondering what kind of shape they would be in since they were probably ten year old back stock. Well, I can only say that they arrived in perfect condition except for one corner being bumped in shipping. Oh, and the stories have held up pretty well to. Journey was a rambling adventure story starring Wolverine MacAlistaire, a loner living on the frontier in the early 1800’s. There is a lot to be said for the artwork which will remind most readers of Will Eisner and the stories as well. There’s only one thing kind of missing. There really isn’t an ending as such. There is sufficient resolution to feel satisfied with these books, but if you have any sensitivity to the work at all you will feel cheated that the marketplace hasn’t supported more work of this kind. Loebs doesn’t seem to be updating his new blog too often, but unlike some of us he has to make a living with his writing and might not have as much free time for this kind of thing.

From Riches to Rags is William Messner-Loebs’ brand new blog. “Who he,” I hear you ask, well, he was and is one of our better cartoonists. And by cartoonist I mean he writes at least as well as he draws. My fondest memories of his work are of a Jonny Quest comic book he did in the 1980’s for, I believe, Comico. He first got some notice working on an independent comic called Journey which was later picked up and distributed by Fantagraphics, the company now best known for its association with Chris Ware and its series of Peanuts reprints. Journey is something that I was always interested in, but somehow never quite found my way into. It had a lot to do with the unavailability of back issues at the time. I always hated to jump into something in midstream and not know what the hell was going on. That is not a problem now that two volumes reprinting all of that work are now available. It’s commonplace for bookstores to carry trade paperback comic collections now; not so in 1985. At any rate, I only picked up that first issue of Jonny Quest way back when because it had art by Doug Wildey in it. For those of you who aren’t comic geeks I will explain that Doug Wildey was a total bad ass as an artist with a blend of naturalism and design sense that is hard to beat. At the time I had aspirations to make a living the same way, so I sought out books like Jonny Quest for their art, even if the stories were juvenile. But a funny thing happened. I found that the stories by Messner-Loebs were highly entertaining and despite their pre adolescent origins they were darn good adventure stories with a lot of humanity to them. Hell, they were just plain good. By the time Messner-Loebs had his biggest success in the early 1990’s working for DC Comics on titles like the Flash, I was no longer buying comics on a regular basis. No particular reason except lack of money and frustrated ambitions. The reputation of those stories he did is still quite high so it’s sort of surprising to hear that he has fallen on hard times in recent years. I won’t dwell too much on that except to say that for a time he couldn’t seem to get a job in the comics business and he lost his house and was reduced to living in a hotel. He seems to be doing somewhat better now. At least he is off of food stamps. I only see one entry at From Riches to Rags, but he was always a prolific writer so I anticipate a lot of good reading. If you stop by be sure to tell him you heard it here first.

I tried to find an easy and convenient link to some of his work, but that is apparently harder than I thought. So if you’re interested in Journey, which I am, all you have to do is visit Fantagraphics Books and type “Loebs” in the search box. I think these were published in the early Nineties so I don’t know how many they have on hand and I’m not sure the condition will be perfect. I’ve ordered copies of the two trade paperbacks for only $4.95 apiece. Not a bad price to pay to get to know this fine cartoonist better.

This has turned out to be a very good month for finding new talent. Trapper the Rapper, from right here in Little Rock has released an impressive debut album; Man of the House. The more rap has crossed over to mainstream success the more closely it has resembled prepackaged pop like Britney Spears; poorly written and overproduced. Those are two things that can’t be said about this album. Trapper has a real feel for the words people actually use when speaking. In particular The Only One in which the protagonist pleads his case to his woman sounds like something Marvin Gaye might have done thirty years ago. He has that same ability to use words that make so much sense and paint such a natural picture that you barely even notice the rhymes until the second or third listen. That knack for putting real life in a song is something that most rap hasn’t got. I hate picking up an album only to find that every song sounds the same and basically repeats the mantra “I’m great and everybody else sucks.” Trapper has a way of maintaining a sense of humor and proportion that never allows even his most over the top song to descend into parody or narcissism. The album isn’t perfect, all songwriters have to get certain beginner’s songs out of the way before they move on to more individual efforts. There are a couple of songs on here that may seem like rap 101 to listeners of a certain age, but only a couple, and even the weakest effort on Man of the House exudes professionalism in its overall production. The vast majority of the album does not simply repeat the shibboleths of rap. I’d hesitate to call it concept album, but there is a wonderful dramatic arc from beginning to end that makes me think Trapper would be well suited to write soundtracks for movies and has a lot of potential for musical theater as well. The album is framed by a handful of brief but wonderfully realized skits that pit Trapper and his girl against Dank and Drank playing a couple of ne’er-do-wells. Judging from these brief pieces, Trapper has a flair for the telling detail and knows how to reveal a character in very few strokes. The mix of songs on the album does a pretty good job of presenting a slice of urban life here in the Deep South with Summer Time Jam, Finer Things and Mama’s Song being the strongest overall performances on the album. I keep going back to Marvin Gaye or Al Green as the most obvious influences but it’s not just the overall sound that reminds me of them, but the quality of the lyrics. There is a nice blend of Motown, and R&B behind his raps and the background singing is absolutely top notch, but it’s Trapper’s willingness to speak honestly that most reminds me of them. Marvin Gaye in particular was always on display in even his most commercial recordings. Trapper the Rapper has made an album that is a worthy successor to those efforts. Inasmuch as most artists hate to labeled, I hesitate to call him the thinking man’s rapper, but if he keeps writing lyrics as good as these it’s a label he will be hard pressed to refuse.

You can pick up Man of the House for a little bit of nothing at CDBaby. And you should.

Trapper also has a very nice looking website. It’s a little lean on content, but it hasn’t been up long either.

Krista Detor’s Mudshow is now available at CDBaby. As I said in this post I believe Krista Detor is one of the finest singer/songwriters to come along in years. Mudshow is her second album and although her first album A Dream in a Cornfield is also good, Mudshow shows considerable advancement in her skills and performance. I think that is the biggest difference between the two albums. Looking at her website she appears to tour a lot and two years worth of live performances in between albums seems to have paid off.

Seriously folks, it doesn’t get much better than this.

A friend of mine picked up a copy of Krista Detor’s second album, Mudshow, while he was on vacation in Indiana. Apparently that was an early local release so you won’t be able to buy this CD immediately, but as soon as it is available nationally you should. Krista Detor is one of my favorite new artists of the last ten years. I have absolutely no doubt that there will be some unfair comparisons made to Norah Jones, but aside from a shared knack for a less is more delivery there really is no similarity. For one thing her song lyrics are denser in imagery and richer in context. There is a lot less in the way of catchy pop hooks, but a little more in the way of perfectly turned phrases. There is a talent for writing lyrics that can be sung along to the very first time you hear them. Krista Detor has that talent in spades. In a way she reminds me of a songwriter like Gordon Lightfoot where the strength of the lyrics is almost masked by the strength of the melodies. Those melodies are mostly lead by her piano playing, but they are amply supported by all players on this album. I don’t know if this is a tour band or musicians hired for the recording, but they sound like people who have played together for a while. Her piano is mostly of the steady and flowing variety, just wave after wave of melody. it’s hard to pin down her influences as sometimes her playing reminds me of pop stars like Billy Joel and Elton John and at others it doesn’t remind me of anybody as much as Jimmy Webb. On Tell Me a Story her playing effortlessly slides between a lullaby vamp and a slick Stephen Sondheim style bridge. I keep finding myself being reminded of a lot of artists that she doesn’t really sound that much like, in part because she is so good you react to her music as if it were already long familiar. There’s something about these songs that sounds lived in and neighborly. I think that may be the most appealing aspect of the whole thing. Mudshow is about the things you’d talk to your neighbors about if people still talked to their neighbors; small town gossip, love affairs, the desire to make it in the big city—you know, stuff.

My personal favorites on this album are Abigayle’s Song and Steal Me a Car. Abigayle’s Song is bound to become a staple of the singer/songwriter circuit for years to come. It’s a kind of list song that is fairly standard in the progress of most songwriter’s, but since it is sincere without that touch of collegiate over-earnestness that trips up so many young writers, it works. Steal Me a Car is the most likely single on the album. It is a bouncy kind of song with that touch of beer hall panache that makes it sound like something Leon Redbone might have recorded.

I keep butting my head against comparisons that don’t quite sound right to me. Jim Croce, Gordon Lightfoot, Stan Rogers, Judy Collins, Tom Paxton; she doesn’t really sound like any of them. The one thing they have in common is the fact that you know them and recognize them from the very first notes of a song and they can all write songs that sound like they they’ve been around forever. I think this album is a good bet to be a huge hit if it just gets a little word of mouth. I bought Norah Jones Come Away With Me about a year before I ever saw a review for it. I usually distrust anything too popular, but in that case I enjoyed her success because I got in on it before it became big. If you’re an anti cool snob like me, you might want to get in on Mudshow now, because it should be huge. Normally I link my reviews to Amazon but this CD is not available there yet and I’m not sure if it will be anytime soon. In the near future it should be available at CD Baby. For more information try her home page.

Willie Nelson’s Teatro is easily the best of his recent albums. Produced by Daniel Lanois who also produced Bob Dylan’s best recent work, Time Out Of Mind, Teatro is mostly comprised of new recordings of some of Willie’s earliest compositions. There are a couple of new tunes, but they are perfectly matched with his earlier style so that they blend in with out any feeling of misplacement. My personal favorites from the album are Darkness on the Face of the Earth, These Lonely Nights, I’ve just Destroyed the World I’m Living In, and Three Days. The most recent copyright of those songs is 1962, which just goes to show how well crafted a country song could be in the heyday of the Nashville sound. The songs vary between an infectious Latin influenced beat as on Darkness on the Face of the Earth to a slow but with a swing ballad tempo as on Home Motel. I don’t know how I missed this in 1998, but it is easily one of my favorite Willie Nelson Recordings. I’d rank it right next to Red Headed Stranger, Stardust and the Troublemaker. I’m a little less interested in the Shotgun Willie phase he went through, but basically he has always been fantastic no matter what he ventured into. I think one of the things that has kept him in the forefront is not only his remarkable sense of time and his ability to choose interesting material, but simply the fact that his vocal style is very low impact and his voice is remarkably strong for a man of his age. As much as I love Johnny Cash’s last albums, it would be hard not to notice that he was fading. Of course, like Willie, he was always more of a storyteller and a dramatist than a singer. Willie is on fine form throughout Teatro. This is a slightly more Texican album than some of his other recent efforts, with a sultry sophistication suffusing even its simplest country licks. In particular, the guitar work on the album is fantastic from start to finish. His reedy baitone is perfectly complimented by the Les Paul licks scattered through out the album. I’m a Willie Nelson fan, but sometimes I forget just how high he has set his standard. Looking back at his career, sure, I could do without the Julio Iglesias debacle or some of his movie music, but basically its been one triumph of art over commerce after another. It’s hard to believe I almost let this little gem slip past without notice.

Some of my fondest memories of childhood are of the countless times I devoured a box of cereal while devouring an encyclopedia. Wikipedia is the kind of thing that could have seriously deranged my childhood. I was always the type to read while I ate. It didn’t really matter what—a comic book, some poetry, a detective novel, the back of the cereal box—just as long as there was something to occupy my time while I ate. I know a meal is an end in itself to most people, but I have always suffered from boredom while eating. I’m not sure why it is that I associate food with reading, but it is a life-long habit. I can’t begin to tell you on how many occasions I would get up in the middle of the night and grab a book off the shelf and head to the kitchen for a snack. On a large percentage of those occasions my book of choice was an encyclopedia. There is something pleasing about opening an encyclopedia at random and then following the trail of cross-references to its logical conclusion. An article on King Henry the fifth leads one to William Shakespeare which leads one to Ben Johnson which leads one to Classicism which leads one to Romanticism which leads one to the Enlightenment which leads one to Voltaire which leads one to Deism which leads one to Heraclitus which is as good a places as any to stop. But you understand how addicting that kind of thing can be. Wikipedia is doubly so since the plethora of links leads one to a wilderness of new windows and branching paths of trivial encounters. I could waste days that way if I didn’t have to earn a living.

Sometimes when I’m feeling cynical and old, I stop and think about how many small pleasures there are even in a crummy day; lately Wikipedia is somewhere near the top of that list.

Not much going on tonight, just this. Pay no attention to the giant gorilla. Maybe if we ignore it it will just go away.

Well, no not really, but the approach does seem to be working with summer blockbusters this year, most of them do seem to be vanishing at a rapid pace. Kong however is scheduled for a December release. Obviously, it’s being positioned for the Oscar race.