Wednesday, 22 January 2014

Play Off: Picking 2013's Best Song - The Final

Tournament Final
32 tracks entered. That got whittled down to 16, then four, and finally just two contenders to the title of my Song of the Year 2013. 

So here we are, finally, at the end of the line. In the pale blue trunks, The Juan Maclean's Feel Like Movin'; in the red-of-an-unbidden-dawn trunks, Mark Kozelek & Jimmy LaValle's Gustavo.

Only one can emerge triumphant. Who will it be?

            

Late last year, I found myself, at 4am, in a drained bathtub with Chris 'Total Man Crush' Sparrow, a gin & tonic and a single portable speaker. The bathroom was the only room in my flat not occupied by a sleeping girlfriend, and we sat for an hour or so, passing the cable back and forth and rattling through our favourite songs of the year.

When we finally called it a night, and climbed out of the tub, I stuck on one last song: Feel Like Movin'. And we started to dance, a little self-consciously – we're two awkward guys, directly facing each other in a tiny bathroom – but irresistibly, arms above our heads, hands describing endlessly complex tesseracts in the air.

Feel Like Movin' is less the song's title, and more a list of associated side effects. I'm listening to it as I type this, and tugging Corgiton, our rotund stuffed corgi, around by one paw to the music, always rising, pushing towards the sky, as Nancy Whang sings “good time's going to take you to heaven”. And Corgiton is keeping perfect rhythm.

***

Given that I'll defend with my life the position that all culture – films, games and especially pop songs – are best when they're short, it's pretty odd that my two contenders for the year's best song both clock in over the seven minute mark.

With Gustavo, I barely feel it. It's too easy to get caught up in Kozelek's elliptical storytelling, an ear always tuned to what happens next, waiting for the next killer line (the bit that landed as I wrote this sentence: “My house ain't done but it's alright/Floors ain't level, but I ain't some suburban/Who cares about bathroom tiles/Straight lines and building codes and Chinese wind chimes.”)

But Feel Like Movin' wears its lengthy running time a lot more obviously, pretty much entirely because my enjoyment of the song is more physical.

Jumping back to dancing in the bathroom: it was great, but by the sixth minute we'd started to burn out. The flesh is weak, after all, and suddenly Nancy Whang's refrain of “Get your feet on the dancefloor/And show me what you're made of” started to feel like a challenge. Apparently, what we were made wasn't enough.

(There is a radio edit, which shaves a minute and a half off, which is actually a full from-the-ground-up remix. Weirdly, though it's not the version I first heard on the radio – Lauren Laverne's 6Music show, specifically – and it messes with the delicate balance of the full song, which is structured with the intricacy of a Stewart Lee set. Once you've listened to it a few times, you realise it's constantly builds up punchlines. The rest of the song teases, pulls away just as you think it's delivering on the set-up and moves on. Then, just as you're forgetting, all the punchlines are triggered at once.)

***

The aforementione Chris Sparrow is also responsible for introducing me to Mark Kozelek.

Sparrow's the kind of person where the question “what are you listening to?” can fuel pub conversation for hours. He was off on a tear about the Perils from the Sea album, sharing wry lines with that uncanny accuracy of his, laying out the vague overarching story, explaining where it fit alongside Kozelek's other work.

I was ready to dismiss it as just more Chris Sparrow Music: old American men being seductively miserable, glass of whisky in hand, as the dust creeps in through the cracks. But then he mentioned Jimmy LaValle's electronica-infused beats, and my ears pricked up.

***

I still haven't dipped into the rest of Kozelek's output, the stuff without LaValle. Partly because there's a fearsome amount of it – the guy released three albums in 2013 alone – and partly because... do you remember how in a previous post I mentioned how I was avoiding anything else by The Juan Maclean? It's the same deal.

These songs feel pure, untouched by anything else, and I worry that nothing else could live up to it.

But honestly, I'm romanticising my stubbornness and ignorance. Tomorrow, once this is all behind me, and 2014 officially begins in my head, their respective back catalogues are going to be my first port of call. I already know I'm wrong about Kozelek, anyway:

***

Jumping back again, a couple of hours before climbing into the bath: We're in the living room, enjoying the full aural benefits of our soundsystem. Sparrow stuck on a demo of You Missed My Heart, a track which very nearly ended up representing Perils From The Sea in this tournament, but this version is an acoustic live thing. Just Kozelek's voice and the occasional plucking of a guitar – exactly the kind of music I'd identify as having no interest in.

The room goes silent.

The song is stunning, in the literal pin-you-to-your-seat sense. The four of us just sit there for six minutes, listening. Maybe it's the gin, but there's a lump forming in my throat.

The second it finishes, the girlfriends chide us for being so bloody intense, ask can we have something with a beat and words we can actually sing along to please?

***

The other day, Kirsty 'Esteemed Colleague' Styles asked me what metric I could possibly use to pick the winning song in this ridiculous venture of mine. I shrugged the question off, but it kind of got to the heart of the idea behind the whole thing.

End of year lists are silly. They pretend on some kind of objectivity, that Song x is definitively better than Song y, even if the writer doesn't believe that, because if you acknowledge the arbitrariness it all falls apart. A knock-out tournament felt it like it carried that to its logical extreme.

***

So, having already talked your ear off about it, I can't really explain to you why Gustavo is the winner, why it beat all those other equally great songs to become my official Favourite Song of 2013.

Honestly, it's not the song I'd expected to pick. As far as I was concerned a month ago, when I began this, it was pretty much a two horse race, and the horses in question were Feel Like Movin' and Hood Party. But right now, it feels perfect.

I never officially picked a Song of the Year for 2012, but I think it's pretty clear that it was either Swift's We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together, or Jepsen's Call Me Maybe: perfectly-formed gleeful, lightweight, short pop songs which were both huge hits and felt deeply personal.

Nothing ever took that crown in 2013. Instead, we had Robin Thicke. There was Get Lucky, of course, but it wore out its welcome. I had my fingers crossed for Ciara's Body Party or Tegan & Sara's Closer, but neither made a dent on the pop consciousness, and eventually melted away.

You could draw personal comparisons, too, if you hadn't already spent hundreds of words telling stories from your boring life. Suffice to say that 2013 never felt quite right to me. It was an in-between year, with few highlights and a lot of challenges.

Picking a softly melancholic album track, that's at least double the right length for a pop song and you can't dance to? A song which, in short, couldn't be much less Me?

Yeah, that feels perfect.

Tuesday, 14 January 2014

Play Off: Picking 2013's Best Song - Semi-Finals

Tournament Round 4

There's a nice symmetry to how these semi-finalists are paired. The Rise of The Ghostface Killah is practically wordless, and given its lyrics' nutritional value, Feel Like Movin' might as well be. The pleasure is all in the sounds. In the case of their competition, however, while the beats are attractive and evocative, it's the lyrics which are the real draw: Gustavo's sustained soliloquy, and Hood Party's polyglottal grab-the-mic rush. Words and music – that familiar theme again.

      
Fat Tony feat. Kool A.D. & Despot – Hood Party
vs
The Juan Maclean – Feel Like Movin' 

Partly for the reasons outlined above, there's much more to grab hold of in Hood Party, at least at first glance. The song manages to cram three rappers with very distinct voices into four minutes: Fat Tony, setting the scene and putting gentrification firmly on the agenda, hostility and anger always bubbling just under the surface. Despot, who sounds like he's straining, right at the edge of running out of breath, the whole time, and who takes home this this year's Kanye West Award for Eye-watering Sexual Frankness with a couple of lines about fists, anal cavities, and washing his genitals with hand soap. Kool A.D., basically a grinning pop-culture trickster god shooting off lighter-than-air rhymes while a second head echoes each line in slurred agreement.

Feel Like Movin', meanwhile, is fairly minimalist in the way it lays out a small handful of ideas and sounds, and takes its time playing around with them.

That's something I love in dance music, and something I really enjoyed with Get Lucky – and when that finally started to fail me, under the weight of overexposure, it was Feel Like Movin' that picked up the slack. The arrangement feels a lot looser and more complex than Get Lucky, though, so that listening to the song is like getting lost in deep horror-movie fog, passing familiar landmarks again and again, a snatch of vocal or a spike of synthesised brass, until you realise the only explanation that the scenery is shifting around you.

The structure of Hood Party is a lot more rigid. The beat is a constant – the sound of a dozen stacked speakers being pushed way past their limit, an affront to neighbours and police – while each voice, neatly partitioned and contained, shines a different light on the central theme. The chorus' wider view, the song crash-zooms to the people at the party, chatting about politics, money and conservative Drake lyrics.

The problem is that Kool A.D.'s urgent charismatic ramble entirely steals the show. Concentrated in one place, it imbalances the whole song.

Feel Like Movin', though, maintains its woozy beauty throughout, perfectly simple until you stare hard enough and notice the complexity. A limited series of sounds, arranged in just the right order, that works on my body, brain and soul equally. It's a great reminder of how true the old 'music is magic' mantra is – which, conveniently, is pretty much what the song itself seems to be about.

Winner: The Juan Maclean – Feel Like Movin'

      
Mark Kozelek & Jimmy LaValle – Gustavo 
vs
Ghostface Killah – The Rise of the Ghostface Killah (Instrumental)

All four of these have an excellent sense of atmosphere, but this pairing especially are just dripping with it.

Stick on a pair of decent headphones, and The Rise of The Ghostface Killah is a sumptuous treat, from the heavy percussive heartbeart that begins the song onward. There's a physicality to the production that lets you hear not just the instruments being played, fingers tapping wood, but the recording equipment, the room it's being played in – which makes it all the more remarkable when the music is cut up, folded around the few trademark  'Ghostface Killa-a-a-ahh' yells that are left intact.

The non-instrumental version is pretty great too, Ghostface's calligraphic rhymes maintaining the vibe (“Tommy guns are irrelevant, I'm bulletproof now/I could fly through the air and duck your chick-a-pow”), as is the crackling Brown Tape version. But the best thing I can say about Younge is that he renders Ghostface pretty much surplus to requirements.

On a similar note, for all I've talked about Gustavo's storytelling, it occurs to me now that I think I'd still love the song if it was in a foreign language. Not only that, I think I'd still get the gist of what was going on.

That's partly down to the texture of Kozelek's voice, the way he contracts certain words, draws others out into a sigh, syllables slurred or croaked or popped, and partly down to LaValle's expressive soundscapes, which stretch out to a distant horizon. Strings fall like steel raindrops, punctuated with obstruent clicks.

Scenery is the only way I can think of this music. It's background, yes, but think of There Will Be Blood, or a Coen Brothers film: We sit, studying in stark detail the cracked lines of the star's face, the world behind him blurred into impressionism, before the depth of field shifts, pulling the landscape into clear focus, and we realise they're the same damn thing.

But I worry I make Gustavo sound too serious and glum, and here's the thing: it's catchy too. I often find myself humming or singing snatches of the song and the album it's taken from. That's what elevates it. That's why I find myself opting, entirely against type, for its heightened realism over the pure fantasy of The Rise of the Ghostface Killah.

Winner: Mark Kozelek & Jimmy LaValle – Gustavo 

Monday, 6 January 2014

Play Off: Picking 2013's Best Song - Rounds 2 & 3

2013Tourney Round 2 Results
Last year is starting to feel like a lifetime ago, isn't it? Bugger. 

I'll endeavour to post the final two rounds, which will see us naming a Best Song of 2013, 
as soon as possible, but today's installment is the most ruthless of the lot. 16 songs become eight, and very quickly four. Let battle commence.

Round 2 Pt 1

As I warned last time around, Fat Tony feat. Kool A.D. & Despot – Hood Party is off to a stomping start, crushing under foot all that lies before it.

Kavinsky – Rampage is the first to go, despite being the perfect expression of a feeling we don't have a word for: roughly, that sudden synchronicity where doing something mundane feels cinematic and you can practically feel the camera on you, close in over your shoulders, rapid cuts as you do up your shoelaces, a power-up for your soul.

Meanwhile, Daft Punk – Giorgio by Moroder and Autre Ne Veut – Ego Free Sex Free make for an interesting pairing. Both are about exploring sounds, little aural doodles tied together by some semblance of structure. In Ego Free, it's all tied together with Ashin crooning close to your ear, sounding truly alien but singing about stuff that's totally, painfully human.

Some people have picked out the 'click on the track' bit as Giorgio's big Moment, but I reckon it comes around the two minute mark, as Moroder finishes his story with “...but everybody calls me Giorgio”, which turns out to be just the nudge the song needed to push it over the top. And it all quietly explodes, these lazy fireworks of sound arcing off in a dozen directions that we follow for the next five minutes.

It's a narrow victory for Daft Punk, then, but it's quickly felled by Hood Party, the victory secured by Kool A.D.'s guest spot alone.

The verse feels slightly detached from the rest of the song, zooming in from the bigger picture about gentrification and race relations to this one guy who's actually at the party. A.D. sidles over and drops a non-sequitur by way of introduction, before firing off a series of conversational gambits ranging from Tom Hanks trivia to potshots at Drake.

Round 2 Pt 2

Without too much discussion, The Juan Maclean – Feel Like Movin' trumps Anamanaguchi – Prom Night, and Kanye West – Black Skinhead trumps Major Lazer – Jessica. From there, though, it starts to get painful.

There's a point on West's previous album, as Runaway comes to a close, where the whole song starts to implode. This single piano note steers the listener through the last three minutes as the song around it folds noisily in on itself. It's the sound of being pulled over an event horizon.

Black Skinhead, and Yeezus as a whole, feels like the music that exists on the other side of that black hole, from that Beautiful People-referencing intro to the repeated shout of GOD!. The way the hook severs ties to the rest of the song, floating out of grasp for a few seconds. That heavy breathing and Kanye's pauses – a constant awareness of dropping oxygen levels – emphasising physicality and creating a sense of danger.

The song debuted with an SNL performance, which is even more industrial, rawer, out of control. That version would probably take Song of the Year hands-down, but the song that appears on the album is more chiselled down, more refined and – in spite of SNL editing out the cusses – somehow better behaved.

As it is, the victory goes to Feel Like Movin'.

It's a song which exists free of any context. I'd never heard of The Juan Maclean before, and haven't felt the need to investigate, and the single cover – just red text on a silver disc – offers no further clues. There's no fiction being built up here, no personality or history to grab hold of, and that feels appropriately pure.

The lyrics are simple, a chant delivering instructions from higher beings on how to have the best possible time. Feel Like Movin'. You really should.

Round 2 Pt 4

One of the very first notes for these blog posts was simply 'music vs lyrics'. Honestly, I've been frustrated at how much it has haunted my scribblings, but it's an undeniable theme of the year. 2013 was the first year I could really look back on the music listener I was a decade ago, and weigh up how I've changed. And something I'd love to explain to that serious young man is how I don't really care about the words anymore. I'd hand him the Kavinsky and Ghostface Killah albums and point out how they build worlds through the music alone, how they actually work better without vocals.

And then, smart little bastard that he was, he'd probably point to Los Campesinos! – Glue Me
and Mark Kozelek & Jimmy LaValle – Gustavo. Okay, yeah. Like all grown-ups, I am of course a massive hypocrite.

Like most of No Blues, Glue Me only truly clicked when the accompanying Heat Rash 'zine arrived and I could pick out – and pick apart – the lyrics. I'm still not sure the “paint me like one of your fence, girls” line makes much sense, but I love the symmetry of the opening and closing verses, the way it's as likely to be cracking a bad joke as it is torturing a metaphor, how much stuff – emotion and images and intertextuality and football references – the song is squeezed into the song.

Gustavo feels sparse by comparison, but there's actually even more on offer. The song never bothers with choruses, rarely repeats itself, just pushes on with the narrative. And that sparseness, I'd argue to my sneering younger counterpart, is down to the artfully light touch of LaValle's backing. (It's here that I know for sure that Gustavo is our winner.) The music conjures a ravaged wasteland, where we meet Kozelek at a crossroads, trading food and company for his tale.

And he'd rightfully point back to the other bracket, which I'm sparing these scant few words. The joy of both Tegan And Sara – Closer and Major Lazer – Get Free lies in their sound. The way the Quin sisters' voices bounce off one another Closer hands it a clear victory but against Gustavo triumphing over the mighty Los Campesinos!, it doesn't stand a chance.

Round 2 Pt 3

One of the reasons I've been listening to more instrumentally-driven music of late is that it's compatible with other activities. I find myself too caught up in the vocals of hip-hop to concentrate on, say, my job.

Which is part of what makes Ghostface Killah & Adrian Younge – The Rise of the Ghostface Killah (Instrumental) so great. The song is truly excellent on its own, but it's even better alongside a complimentary piece of pop culture. My serving suggestion: play Twelve Reasons to Die while reading Michael Chabon's blaxpoitation Middlemarch Telegraph Avenue, as I did this summer, and try not to imagine it as the soundtrack to a Luther Stallings daydream. Two great tastes that taste great together.

I was tempted to give the victory to Summer Camp – Fresh just to further annoy Miles 'Fuck No, Spencer' Bradley, who memorably dismissed the song as “piss weak detergent-advert music”. He's wrong, of course – its lightweight bubblegum qualities are all part of the illusion, a thin iridescent film over what lies beneath – but I still couldn't bring myself to do it. I take even more pleasure from The Rise of The Ghostface Killah than pissing off Miles. That's not something I say lightly.

Arcade Fire – Reflektor and Ciara – Body Party, honestly, are two of the songs on this list that have lost some of their sheen from overuse. Though I still admire its statement of intent, I can't lose myself in Reflektor's grooves like I did the first hundred times. Body Party wins.

At the year's halfway mark, it was my frontrunner for Best Song, but it was just too addictive, and the side effects included me not listening to it much any more. The Ghostface Killah claims another victory.

I hope Body Party somehow pulls an Icona Pop and becomes one of next year's biggest hits, so I can rediscover it at parties. It deserves to be performed drunk, with a thrust and a wink, to an appreciative audience. Singles-buying public of 2014, won't you please give me that chance?

Tournament Round 4

And there we have it. Just four tracks remain. I'll be pitting them against each other and sharing the results in the next couple of days. See you at the aftermath.

Wednesday, 1 January 2014

Person of the Year 2013, feat Tim Maytom

Happy New Year! A quick break from the Play Off tournament - which will be back shortly, narrowing the contenders for Track of the Year from 16 down to our four semi-finalists - for a guest contribution from the ever-lovin' Tim Maytom.

This is the fourth time Tim has shared his Person of the Year on this site. His previous picks have all tended towards comedy - Pete Holmes, Amy Poehler and Donald Gloverbut this year, he's talking comics of a completely different kind. 

Enough preamble. Let's find out who takes home 2013's Person of the Year.

DeFraction

The good thing about making the rules is that you can decide when to break them. That's something I think this year's choice for Person of the Year represents, and so in that spirit, I'm breaking my own rules and declaring a joint selection.

Kelly Sue DeConnick and Matt Fraction are both comic writers who have had great years. They have worked within the system of the 'Big Two' comic companies to craft superhero stories that resonate on a personal level and go beyond folks in tight costumes punching each other (not that there's anything wrong with the occasional spandex fistfight), as well as producing creator owned books that have pushed themselves, and the medium, into telling new types of stories. They are deft practitioners of social media, using their Twitter/Tumblr/whatever presence to interact with fans and build a sense of community among like-minded readers. They are everything a modern comic writer should be. They also happen to be married to each other.

Captain Marvel

Let's consider Kelly Sue DeConnick first. Having risen up through manga translation and the odd issue and mini-series at Marvel, Kelly Sue earned the job of relaunching Carol Danvers as Captain Marvel in July 2012.

Danvers, previously Ms Marvel, was a character that Marvel had slowly been raising the profile of, clearly aware of their lack of a female superhero able to support her own series à la Wonder Woman. Ms Marvel was a natural choice, and with Kelly Sue's relaunch, she finally took the name Captain. Like so many female superheroes, Danvers' origin was tied to a male hero, the original Captain Marvel, but by taking on the mantle as her own, both the character and Marvel themselves were making the statement that this was no longer a spin-off, distaff companion to another hero. She had inherited his name, and so was his equal.

The series proceeded to build upon the ideas of legacy, exploring the world of female aviators while Carol adventured through time and fought monsters and villains across the globe. DeConnick built a wonderful supporting cast for Carol, using established characters from her previous solo series and introducing new ones, and in one of the most exciting developments, this year it was revealed that the Ms Marvel title would relaunch with a young hero inspired by Carol's exploits.

There is a long and embarrassing history in comic books of female heroes all being based on existing male characters - Batwoman, Supergirl, She-Hulk, etc - and while many of these characters have had fantastic stories written about them that treated them as well-rounded, three-dimensional characters, that initial secondary nature hangs over them. Just as Carol Danvers had shed that idea by truly embracing her position as Captain Marvel, the new Ms Marvel, Kamala Khan, is unique for being one of the few female heroes inspired by another female character.

As many of 2013's Year in Review-style articles will tell you, we seem to be part of an exciting time for feminism, and bringing the idea of female role models, mentoring and friendship to the fore in this way is just one of the methods DeConnick has employed to create a modern feminist hero in Captain Marvel. The book is full of interesting, conflicted woman who feel real, and who deal with issues that all readers can relate to (albeit in the magnified, larger-than-life way that superhero comics tend to use). This deeply integrated feminism has created a huge and devoted fanbase online, the Carol Corps, who read, write, draw, craft and cosplay to support their hero. Captain Marvel is relaunching with a new #1 in 2014 and I can't wait to see where DeConnick sends Danvers next.

Pretty Deadly

DeConnick's other big project this year was a creator owned one, a mythical Western horror series called Pretty Deadly she made with Emma Rios, Jordie Bellaire and Clayton Cowles. Pretty Deadly is well removed from Captain Marvel's primary coloured exploits, for although Carol Danvers is a complex, rounded character, there's no denying she's a hero. As befits its genre roots, there are no obvious heroes in Pretty Deadly.

Instead, there's Johnny, the nihilistic coward, languishing in a prostitute's bed with a bruised ego; Fox, the blind wanderer with a dark secret; Ginny, the daughter of Death, a skull-faced avenger loosed on the world.

Pretty Deadly is different to almost everything out there at the moment, a lyrical folkloric tale that entrances and disturbs in equal measure. Rios' beautiful fluid art and inspired layouts combine perfectly with the tone DeConnick creates, giving everything an otherworldly, dream-like feel. Each issue begins with the framing story, as the tale of Deathface Ginny to told between a butterfly and a skeletal rabbit, and the first issue was largely taken up with a gorgeously relayed song describing Ginny's origins. These stylistic choices feel like acts of faith, asking people to get on board with the book's atmosphere, accept the world the team is weaving that is so different to most other comics.

I'm sure there were a fair few people who never got past the song of Death's daughter locked in a tower, but those of us who gave the book a chance became utterly bewitched by the story being told. Pretty Deadly is DeConnick's first creator-owned series, and that she has chosen such a bold, unique story, clearly born of her passions and executed in such a confident way speaks volumes about her as a writer.

Hawkeye

Let's turn now to Matt Fraction. Fraction has been a 'name' in comics for much longer, moving from his early independent work with AiT/PlanetLar and Image to higher profile jobs at Marvel, relaunching Iron Fist with Ed Brubaker and writing acclaimed runs on the X-Men, Thor and Iron Man.

Like Kelly Sue, the summer of 2012 saw him relaunching an existing hero at Marvel, in his case Hawkeye. Reteaming with his Iron Fist collaborator, the incredible David Aja, Fraction took Marvel's archer (his profile recently raised by an appearance in the Avengers film) and repositioned him as a true everyman hero, one who drank straight from the coffee maker and struggled to connect his DVR. Hawkeye became a book about what a (relatively) grounded hero does when not being an Avenger, and focused on Clint Barton's relationship with his young protege Kate Bishop, also called Hawkeye.

Indeed, by the time of this article, the two have parted ways and the book alternates, spending one issue with Barton in New York and one with Bishop in Los Angeles. Like Captain Marvel embracing her new name, Kate Bishop is as much Hawkeye as Clint Barton, and in many cases seems to have her life a lot more together. The series serves in part as a deconstruction of the hero and sidekick trope, showing that when you take an established but flawed existing hero and pair them with a hyper-competent teen, things are not going to run smoothly.

As well as sharing the spotlight with Kate Bishop, 2013 saw Fraction and Aja release Hawkeye #11, "Pizza is my Business", an issue told entirely from the point of view of Hawkeye's dog Lucky. It was a stylistic tour de force, utilising Aja's astonishing layouts to show how Lucky's senses interpret the world through scent. It wasn't simply empty spectacle or showing off though - the issue also drove the overarching plot forward in multiple ways, in many ways proving a pivotal issue in the run so far. It was a great example of a story that could only be told as a comic, and showed how the medium can be pushed forward.

Hawkeye Pizza Dog

Fraction has had multiple other titles out this year, included acclaimed runs on Fantastic Four and its sister title FF, and his Satellite Sam series with Howard Chaykin, but I'm going to focus on his new Image series with cartoonist Chip Zdarksy, Sex Criminals. From the provocative title to its frank depiction of sex, Sex Criminals looks like a comic built to shock people, but for all the penises, orgasms and sex shops, it's actually an incredibly sweet and honest story of two people falling in love.

Suzie and John, the protagonists, have a unique ability to stop time when they climax. When they discover each other after meeting at a party, they share how they came to realise they had this power, and how it shaped their sexual awakenings. Now, having finally met someone with a similar ability, they quickly begin to fall for each other, and as they do, realise that they can use their ability to save the library Suzie works at. It's a gloriously silly comic, featuring the two lead characters goofing around in a sex shop and, in #3, a full blown musical number (of a sort).

Obviously, inevitably, it's also filled with hundreds of filthy jokes, from the numerous sex moves an more experienced girl tells a teenaged Suzie about, to the different categories of porn in the sex shop. I have rarely laughed at a comic as much as I have at Sex Criminals. But at the core of the story is something much more personal – a story about connection, about the different ways we have sex and how frightening and alienating youth can be. As with Hawkeye, Fraction has an amazing collaborator in Zdarsky, who gives Suzie and John a human warmth and life, and contributes more than his fair share of the jokes to the pages. It is one of those rare comics that I would recommend to everyone, as long as they don't mind dick jokes.

Sex Criminals

It should be clear by this point that both DeConnick and Fraction are writers at the top of their game, forever pushing the envelope in terms of what can be achieved in mainstream comics. They've both gone to great lengths to make even their work-for-hire into projects they are passionate about, ones that are shot through with their personality. But accomplishment and expertise alone will not win you the coveted 'Alex-Spencer.co.uk Person of the Year, Presented by Tim Maytom' award.

Both Kelly Sue and Matt have gone to great lengths to be accessible and honest with their fans. They talk, enthuse and joke around with people online. Kelly Sue is fiercely protective and supportive of her Carol Corps, and Matt manages to balance absurdist humour with humbling honesty about his struggles with addiction and depression. They reach out to fans and welcome it when fans reach back. More than that, they share their lives openly and in a way that encourages respect, rather than invasive prying.

The pair have two young children together and watching the slices of their family life they present, they're clearly loving, generous parents, whether they're building a cardboard city for their son and his friends to destroy for a Giant Monster-themed birthday or servicing their daughter's two current loves by painting a toy tool bench pink. They have the sort of family life that makes me wonder if I could get adopted by them.

I was lucky enough to meet them both at Thought Bubble this year and in person, they are exactly as charming, friendly and wonderful as their presence on the Internet suggests. Both were faced with huge queues for two days, but treated each person who lined up to get something signed with patience and kindness, and were more than happy to chat about their work and their lives. In a world where public personae are increasingly managed, and not just by celebrities, it's refreshing to see two people who have no need to do so. I hold both Kelly Sue and Matt up as icons, and meeting them only cemented that.

AboutAuthorTimSome days, it feels like I met Tim Maytom on the dancefloor. Some days, it feels like we all did. 

Tim moves like he writes - with ambition, elegance and impeccable taste. Earlier this year, he killed Batman. Slightly later this year, he pointed out that the two of us are Drift Compatible, and it has been my great pleasure these past few years to put that to the test, on both Thought Bubble's dancefloor and this very blog.

And that is why he is my official selection for Person of the Year every year. But for some reason he refuses to write that blogpost.

About Me

My photo
London, United Kingdom
Videogames, film, music, comics: feed them into the Alex-Spencer machine and out come neat little articles. Like the ones you're looking at here.