One thing that I'm absolutely worn out with, when it comes to comics, is the autobiography "genre", or whatever you want to call it, especially its sister genre "the crudely drawn autobio indie comic". Unless you've had one hell of an interesting life, with many unbelievable encounters and fascinating occupations, I just don't want to know what a chronic masturbator you are or how much of a dick you've been to your boy-or-girl friend or how much of a sexual identity crisis you or you best friend has or how tough it was growing up as a runaway/hooker/oppressed minority, and I especially don't want to know if you illustrate it in a style that looks like you've never bothered to learn the rudiments of drawing, and the delirium tremens are living in your wrists.

However, there are always exceptions to my "I don't care about your messed-up life" mindset, and I'm pleased to report that this new graphic novel from Mike Dawson, FREDDIE & ME, certainly comes under the exceptions to the rule category. It doesn't hurt if you tie it in with a rock group that (at least at first, anyway) had ties with the Glam Rock movement of the early 70's, in this case Queen, specifically its lead singer, frontman, and co-writer Freddie Mercury.

I haven't written too much about Queen here, even when I was writing a lot about music on this blog; my enthusiasm for the group had waned a bit by the early Aughts. However, I do go back quite a ways with the band and its music; the first time I remember hearing them was in early-mid 1974, at the house of a couple of friends of mine, brothers who both ended up fronting rock and roll bands as adults. Their house was the hangout in those days, and a big part of hanging out there was listening to music, which we did indoors on their stereos or outside via cassette and 8-track players. One of them had Queen II, their sophomore effort, and I was absolutely captivated by its flamboyant Led Zep-meets-the Brothers Grimm lyrical slant and adventurous musicianship. Their doctor father, a gruff and garrolous fellow with a deep rumbling voice, remarked upon seeing the cover: "Queen two? Looks like QUEER two to me!", which amused us all no end. It wasn't long until I had my own copy, and I was delighted to see that they released their third, Sheer Heart Attack, only a few months later. By then, I'd done a little research (mostly in CREEM), and was pleased to see that they were aligned with the Glam bands I loved like Mott the Hoople in the waning days of Glitter Rock. After that, "Bohemian Rhapsody" made them superstars, and it seemed like everyone in the circles that I kinda-sorta fit in, i.e. the "popular" cliques, loved 'em- and that always struck me as odd because let's face it, Freddie was as flamboyantly gay, even before he adopted his leather togs and butch haircut in the late 70's, as could be- and while it didn't bother this Bowie/Bolan/Lou Reed fan in the slightest, let's face it: small town Kentucky in the 1970's (and today, too, I suppose) wasn't exactly a bastion of tolerance for alternative lifestyles. It always surprised and amused me how willing everyone was to accept the band and its frontman. Perhaps they regarded him like Liberace. Who knows. Anyway, I eventually lost interest in Queen as each album shifted in sound and focus from the hard rock, fantasy, and Beatlesque pop flourishes to the Mack-produced Eurodisco sound of albums like Hot Space and Some Kind of Magic. Still, once in a while I'd hear a "One Vision", "Flash Gordon", or "Radio Ga Ga" that I liked, and I held out hope that they'd someday get around to making some music that was a little more, well, organic. By 1990, I was working part time at a smalltown radio station with an alternative music leaning, and I decided to helm a Metal show to take advantage of some of the harder sounds that were becoming more popular- the Nirvanas and Chili Peppers and so on. One of the contacts I made as music director of that show was at the newish Hollywood Records, who had just arranged to release all the Queen albums to date on CD. I was delighted to get over half of their catalogue and spent quite some time reacquainting myself with their music, and hearing albums I'd passed on (like 1989's better-than-I-expected The Miracle) initially. Tempering this was the announcement later that Mercury had contracted AIDS, and his subsequent death- a sad end for a great showman. It made me a lot sadder than I expected it to, for sure. Since then, I still get a kick out of digging out those first 6 or 7 albums and listen to them fairly often.

I don't go back with Mike Dawson nearly as far; in fact, other than a couple of emails I don't know him at all. After this memoir, though, I do know a fair amount about him, especially his affection for Queen, which began with a chance viewing of the video for their single "I Want to Break Free", and as is detailed so well in Freddie & Me, it became a lifelong love affair. It's something how all of us develop a bond with a musician or group of same, and I can't think of another example that details this phenomenon better than this. While of course he became a fan of other musicians, his Queen love remained consistent all his life to date. I first became aware of Freddie & Me through Mike's LiveJournal; he had been posting pages from it as far back as 2006, if memory serves. The first scene I saw was a low-key fictionalized conversation between Freddie and guitarist Brian May, late in the former's life- and it was reflective, smart, and downright touching. I wanted to see more, and enjoyed each subsequent chapter that he posted. I soon came to realize that this was going to be more of a personal reminisce, autobiographical in nature, and while I hoped to see more imagined band scenes I soon came to realize that Mike was a pretty interesting dude in his own right, and I was looking forward to reading this when it finally came out. And now, it's going to be available everywhere in May.

Mike lets us into his life with an open, unguarded approach- no masturbation stories, thankfully, but he doesn't hesitate to let himself look foolish when needs must. You never know what people who do these stories leave out, but he seems to be ready to let us know the score when necessary. We see his childhood in England, and subsequent move to the US and the adjustment period that was ongoing throughout, complete with learning to navigate high school and college, and of course those first experiences with girls. We go on to his young adulthood, career, and a particularly moving interlude involving trips back to England and the death of a beloved grandparent. While he doesn't always go on about music, it was certainly a big part of his life, along with drawing, and Fred & Co. are frequently referenced, at least in the background. There are a few of the band scenes included here, but unfortunately the scene which grabbed me at the beginning was cut. He says he might repost it at some later date, I certainly hope so because I'll link you right to it. Dawson employs a loosey-goosey sort of cartoonish style to illustrate the proceedings- his work reminds me a bit of his friend Alex (Box Office Poison) Robinson or a less exaggerated Peter Bagge. His storytelling chops are strong; he moves the story along at a great pace, lays out everything very well, and he is especially strong at blackspotting to enhance mood. His is not a style which is impressive on the surface, but when you look closely, it's deceptively outstanding.

I suppose it's said that the best autobiographical works are those in which the reader can find a bit of themselves therein; that's certainly the case with me as I read Freddie & Me. I'm several years older than Mike, but I can strongly relate to his attraction to the music and image of Queen, similar to what I felt when it came to the Beatles, Nilsson or Bolan to name a few. I enjoyed Freddie & Me as much as anything I've read certainly this year, and probably quite some time before that. It's a very affecting and involving memoir, with strong illustration to match, and I recommend it highly to anyone who has ever sung into a hairbrush in front of a mirror, fist pumped up in the air, as they listened to their favorite band cranked up to ten. A

Time now, finally, for a look at some of the books I've received in the mail...

Y'know, it's not easy to do slice-of-life stuff, especially light-hearted slice of life stuff, well- especially given the cynical mindset of most TV, film, and print writers these days. Look at all the downbeat and exceedingly lame TV sitcoms, dramas, comic strips, etc. we have out there to bear witness to that fact. When one runs across an instance in which it's done right, then we need to stand up and shout about it, and that's most definitely the case with Tom Beland's True Story, Swear To God: 100 Stories, a collection of Beland's two-tier strips which are basically about him, his life, his relationships, his fanboy-ish-ness, his career as a cartoonist, his childhood, etc. In less capable hands, this could get tedious real fast, but Beland manages to hit the right note nine and one-half times out of ten, and the end result is that you can't put this down once you get started. He even manages to be engaging when he shifts gears and writes about the death, in his teenage years, of his parents- quite wrenching, especially if you've been through something similar. Invaluable in keeping the tone light throughout is Beland's cartooning style- he has a swooping, graceful line which reminds me a lot of the great Al Hirschfeld, and this makes Beland's vignettes a pleasure to look at, even when he's getting all serious on us. True Story, Swear To God, the ongoing, is a title that I pretty much overlooked when it came out initially, there's just so much to buy and so little money with which to do it with...but I'm thinking I might need to start picking it up as soon as possible. If you're looking for a fun read, written by an engaging storyteller with no hidden political agendas or cynical attitude to impose, then I definitely recommend picking both this and the ongoing up. You'll be glad, I think, you did.

Hench is the story of, well, a super-villian henchman, surely as much a staple of comics lore as the cape, mask and secret identity. This sort of thing has been touched upon before, I think, but I can't recall when it's been looked at in as much depth as here. Set , of course, in a world in which superheroes and supervillians do their respective things, football star Mike Fulton blows out a knee, has trouble adjusting to life without sports, specifically getting a job and providing for his wife and young son, and eventually falls into the henching profession. He winds up working for an assortment of colorful costumed lunatics on a number of big heists- sometimes they pays off, sometimes they don't and he gets busted and sent to prison, which causes serious strain on his marriage. When we first meet Fulton, it's late in his career and he's pondering just how it got to the point it did, plus, he's contemplating one last big score so he can get away. Problem is, the job is for the biggest psycho nutjob in the city...and somehow he winds up holding a gun at the head of the other big psycho nutjob in the city, a Batman-ish crimefighter named "Still of the Night". Does he shoot him in cold blood? He can't let him go, surely! Along the way, we get a look back into how he got into the life, and how much it's cost him. Hench is a nicely written character study, populated with imaginative characters, and it's writer Adam Beechen's straightfaced approach to the subject matter that keeps it from veering into Tick territory. Art-wise, Manny Bello is a bit on the raw side, especially in his figure drawing, but manages to keep the proceedigs going efficiently enough. He gives us a handful of full-page swipe illos, inspired by and credited to the likes of Ditko, Kirby and Steranko, and these are well done. So I think Bello bears watching in the future, and perhaps we'll look at this like we do X-Men 53 when considering Barry Smith. Hench isn't perfection, but it is a solid effort by a couple of creators who, I'll bet, will be heard from often in years to come.

Later: Malinky Robot: Stinky Fish Blues and Jax Epoch.