After the first two weeks of Brew Reviews, I’ve learned my lesson. As much as I want to celebrate my favorite season with alcohol, it appears as though the pumpkin-beers may not be my bag. Filling my brain with fermented pumpkin seemed like such a great idea on paper, but then again, so did making a fourth Die Hard. And we all know how that turned out.

So when I made the weekly visit to my local beer-retailer, I decided to turn my back on the seasonal beverages. Yes, it hurt my soul to walk past Sam Adams Octoberfest but I was on a mission. To the cooler I went, determined to get an alcoholic beverage that would actually taste good.

With some searching, I discovered a four-pack of Gonzo Imperial Porter from the peeps at Flying Dog. I picked it up for inspection and was blown away by the fact that it touted a Hunter S. Thompson quote — “Good people drink good beer.” Holy shit. As a fan of Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas and the Thompson-inspired Spider Jerusalem, I was sold.

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With so many releases on the horizon, it’s easy to lose track of some real gems. Next Tuesday’ll see me blasting new Every Time I Die, Kid Cudi, Thrice, the Protest the Hero DVD and maybe, just maybe, new Megadeth (probably not). Yes, there’s a lot on my plate.

But not so much that I should have lost sight of The Great Misdirect, Between the Buried and Me’s fifth studio album. Come October 27^th we’ll finally have the follow-up to Colors, the 2007 effort that I believe to be one of the most important rock albums of the last ten years. I’m not going to ramble about why Colors is amazing — just sit down and listen (from start to finish) for yourself. If you’re not blown away on some level, I’m not sure you know what music is all about.

Other than a few studio updates and a teaser track on Myspace, BTBAM seem to be keeping The Great Misdirect under lock and key. But it was brought to my attention that a couple of new tracks were premiered live; of course, it only follows suit that some fan captured them (on what seems to be an iPhone) and uploaded them to YouTube.

The quality isn’t great, but it’s good enough. The new material presented is equal parts aggression, melody, musical showcase, straight-ahead groove and mind-bending brutality. Check out the video after the jump.

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Another Friday, another work-week in the bag, and now it’s time to get halfway into it myself. After doing my normal gig and then giving a drum lesson, I headed for my local beer-dealer.

Wanting to avenge the injustice that was last week’s beer, I made sure to be much more considerate about my choice. Rather than just grabbing the first six-pack to catch my attention, I actually took a minute to look around. “No goon-fuck Pump-o-Jacktern is gonna fool me this time,” I told myself.

And I was right. Kind of.

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If you haven’t been reading DC’s Wednesday Comics then you’re either stupid or crazy. Provided you’re not both, go to your local comic shop right now buy as many of them as you can. Yes, they’re that good.

Those of you who have been picking up this weekly treat have probably already decided which strips are worthwhile and which aren’t. To me, the only real toss-away strips are Metal Men (apparently DiDio writes an interesting story about as well as he edits), Teen Titans, and (until last week, anyways) Caldwell’s Wonder Woman. Other than that, we’re talking straight-up comic-book masterpieces.

One of these masterpieces is Superman. The story is simple enough — Superman is having some sort of existential crisis and he travels about while trying to figure out what it all means. The execution, however, is perfect. Arcudi’s writing and Bermejo’s pencils depict Kal-El as both iconic and humanly relatable. Kudos to them.

But what I find most breathtaking about this comic are the colors. When I fold open the newspaper-style strip, my eyes explode and nearly knock the lenses out of my glasses. I don’t even know what to write…the colors of this Superman strip are just perfect. Vibrant, warm, welcoming, heavenly.

So once I realized that I was in love with the colors, I decided to contact the woman responsible: Barbara Ciardo.

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Whenever I wander around Warren Ellis’ Whitechapel Forums (which is pretty much everyday) it doesn’t take long before I find something worthwhile. Some days, it’s a new book to read or an 8tracks mixtape or some scientific article I can barely wrap my head around. In other words, Whitechapel is a failsafe source of discovery.

Today was no exception. Browsing the Splash Page Art Challenge Thread, I was struck by the work of George Zapata (who posts as ‘gzapata’). His submission (as seen below) wonderfully depicts the differences between Batman & Superman. And while this interplay between light/dark, cheerful/brooding, inspiring/frightening has been explored ad nauseam, Zapata’s effort is much more refreshing and playful.

From Superman’s ridiculous hair-curl to Batman’s scowl, Zapata helps the reader remember that these are cartoons — they don’t always have to be  complicated characters of  socio-cultural critiques. Sometimes, believe it or not, comic books can just be fun – and that’s exactly what these two pages prove.

I made my way to Zapata’s website to discover that he is a former student of the Joe Kubert School of Cartoon and Graphic Art and is trying to cut his teeth in the comic book world. I emailed George and asked for permission to post these images and he has yet to respond. With that being said, I’m going to assume he’s cool with it.

Go to his  blog. Check out his sick art. Let him know what you think. Help out the small guys.

It’s Friday. Finally. TGI-fuckin’-F or whatever. If only it were 1989 again and I could rock the TGIF lineup, I may not have need to write this. But alas, times have changed and I can no longer rely on ABC’s transdimensional-series cameos to help kill the memories of the week.

Instead, I need a cold brew. And since I’m drinking anyways, I figure that I might as well take the opportunity to review the beverage for the six diehard, dedicated readers of OL.

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Earlier this afternoon I dug through the archives I share with Caffeine Powered, as I was on a mission to find one of my all-time favorite comic books. Thanks to the wonderful organization skills of my brother, it was with minimal effort that I was able to pump my fist and shout “Huzzah!” I held in my hands X-Men #25, the very first comic I remember reading.

Actually, I need to pause for clarification. X-Men #25 was not the first comic book I owned. Looking at it today I realized that the comic was published in October 1993; as a seven year old at that time, I must have already been familiar with paneled pages.

Furthermore, when I first got my hands on X-Men #25 almost sixteen years ago, I didn’t read it. In fact, I’m not sure if I could read at that age. But even if I was literate, I distinctly remember skipping the words in favor of the images (sorry Fabian Nicieza!).

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Every Time I Die has been one of the few bands whose albums retain unchallenged positions in my personal rotation. Especially in their last effort (2007’s The Big Dirty), ETID combine straight-ahead thrash & paralysis-inducing breakdowns with southern-rock groove & clean hooks to create an irresistible sonic cocktail.

The garnish, of course, is Keith Buckley’s penchant for crafting evocative, powerful lyrics. Buckley’s anecdotes act as supportive frames, giving the listener just enough to imagine a more personal narrative. I’m not sure, but I’d bet that I’m not the only ETID fan who finds himself pondering lyrics such as those found at the end of Imitation is the Sincerest Form of Battery:

Stay wistful and young.
The affected are banking on oblivion
In the drone of embittered hope.
And we’re sold by the way they wrote it.

Oh, it’s the end of the line
I’m cornered by a precedent
The sneering public eye.

It is better to destroy than to create what is meaningless.
So the picture will not be finished…

Or maybe I just give Keith Buckley too much credit because he was a literature student & high school teacher. I don’t know.

In any case, September 15^th sees the release of New Junk Aesthetic. I’ve been looking forward to this album for quite some time and have held my head high despite some more disparaging news (i.e. Fall Out Boy’s Pete Wentz contributing guest vocals & the departing of longtime drummer Mike “Ratboy” Novak).

My optimism for New Junk Aesthetic is instead rooted in the fact that it was completed before Novak left, providing one last documented recording of the foursome (Novak/Williams/the brothers Buckley) that I’ve learned to love. Further, my love for sweet album packaging is appeased by the stellar artwork of guitarist Jordan Buckley.

Yesterday, Wanderlust was released as the first official video for the new album. I’m still sorting out my feelings about the track, but my initial impression is favorable. That may change. Or it may not. But for right now, I’m going to pump my fist and contemplate the following:

We’ve lived under this dark cloud forever
Waiting for the bad light to break.

Just let me try that one again, with a little more feeling –
We slept at the crossroads together, trying to make an honest mistake.
Just let me try that one more time, without a smile on my face.

Give the video a view and tell me what you think.
Every Time I Die – “Wanderlust”

Looking ahead to the next few weeks’ comic releases, I realized that September 2^nd brings the first issue of Strange Tales Max. This three-issue miniseries is composed of short stories by some of the most acclaimed creators in underground comics, many of whom have seized the opportunity to run amok with Marvel’s more recognizable characters.

On the one hand, I think this series could be great for all involved parties; the creators gain exposure that their usual work does not afford them, Marvel gets to tout a badge of artistic merit, and the readers get their filthy paws on some unique work. If all goes to plan, Strange Tales Max could be responsible for quite a few Eisner-nominations.

However, such an endeavor also runs the risk of choking on the vomit of its own novelty. Comic book fans are, on the whole, not a group who like their mothers’ apple pie recipes fucked with. If Marvel runs a story about Peter Parker giving up the superheroics in favor of free-form dance, then they might just shoot themselves in the foot.

Quirky or novel are not always synonymous with successful. Just ask DC’s Wednesday Comics — despite heavy promotion, its first issue was only the thirty-sixth best selling comic of July (with subsequent issues faring worse). And even though I think it contains some of the best story-telling I’ve read lately (Kerschl/Fletcher’s The Flash/Iris West, Pope’s Strange Adventures, & Busiek/Quinones’ Green Lantern comes to mind) even I can’t get over the shitty newsprint material. In my opinion, such beautiful art shouldn’t be folded over and printed on gray toilet paper.

Perhaps Wednesday Comics may work better once it’s collected into an absolute edition. Maybe Strange Tales Max will be unappreciated until collected into a full anthology. Either way, both should be commended for the ways in which they strive for something else.

Strange Tales #2's cover is from Peter Bagge's "The Incorrigible Hulk"

In addition to the twist conclusion of Ed Brubaker’s entire run, Daredevil #500 features an addendum that happens to bring with it a hope for tomorrow. More precisely, the pin-up section includes a piece by Rafael Grampa that can only be described as fucking amazing.

Grampa’s Daredevil (pictured above) is both refreshing and reverent — the old yellow/red costume has never looked more vibrant or alive, full of that indefinable essence that readers perceive as artistic enthusiasm.

Staring at the pin-up for quite some time, I became enamored with its realistic depiction of Matthew Murdock. Although much more impressive than my scrawny frame, the physique of this Daredevil appears to be no greater than that of any modern mixed-martial artist. Furthermore, the bootlaces, shirt, leather straps and boxing gloves summon the same spirit Paul Pope conjured for Batman Year 100, the notion that maybe, just maybe, superheroes could exist.

Having never heard of Rafael Grampa, I decided to find out for myself whether he was just a rip-off artist of Paul Pope (of whom I have invested much of my fanboy stock) or a legitimate talent. After making my way to his blog, I am now ruling in favor of the latter.

Rafael Grampa, which (according to my nonexistent understanding of Portuguese) roughly translates to Raphael Grandfather, is apparently quite the sensation in Brazil. He is a well-known graphic artist, designing not only comics but t-shirts, animations, toys, and even concepts for ESPN ads. The man even has a column at the website for MTV Brasil, which I would check out if English weren’t my only language.

So once I understood Grampa to be a respected (rising) star of sequential art, I made the egregious mistake of wondering, “What other superheroes can he draw?!?!” It didn’t take me long to find this:

In my estimation, that is a sick Batman and an even better Robin. I really love the over-sized mask and the band-aid on Robin, adding an element of youthful inexperience which is generally overlooked. Again, this style does have a tinge of Pulphope in it, but not to the point that accusations should be flung.

With my urges to see men in tights and capes subsided, I was able to look into the Grampa’s more substantial work. As I discovered shortly thereafter, Rafael Grampa created 2008’s Mesmo Delivery, which tells the tale of an ex-boxer turned transporter and is tinged with a Twilight Zone otherworldliness. The one-shot has received crazy critical acclaim and is actually sold out. This puts me in a shitty situation, as I can either wait until Dark Horse reprints it next year or shell out some serious cash. I’ll probably suck it up and spend the money now, as I can’t stop looking at whatever previews/teasers I can find:

Deep down, I really hope that Rafael Grampa does whatever it is that he finds artistically fulfilling. But I’d be hard-pressed to deny the appeal of that Daredevil pin-up. In my ideal world, he’ll do what a lot of artists find themselves doing — both the artsy stuff and the commercial properties (which pay the bills). It is my belief that when genuinely talented creators put fresh spins on the dependable franchises, the readers finally get to see their favorite characters elevated (if only for a brief period) to higher strata.

Here’s to hoping Rafael Grampa sticks around to help us get to those upper echelons.