Low Art PUNK Pt I

Virtuoso.

What musicians come to mind?

This is a personal question & answers will vary but we all have answers. What are yours?

Hard not to shout out J. S. Bach or Johannes Brahms. You’ll hit up Chopin & Liszt if the keys are your thing. There are the titans of Jazz - Coltrane, Davis or Monk anyone? Charles Mingus for those bass nuts up in here. Some you thought about your favorite guitar hero. From Jimmy Page & Keith Richards to Jack White & Dan Auerback, rock and roll has always been a showcase for virtuosic expression. Still some of you thought of your favorite MC. You gotta call Kendrick a virtuoso on the mic. Whether we are talking about the ever-changing innovation of Tyler the Creator or RZA’s staggering body of work, hip hop has its virtuosos. Songwriters? I got my power trio: Bob Dylan. Tom Waits. Leonard Cohen. I know some of you are screaming at me right now. Who do you got? Who did I miss?!

I wish we were in the same room right now so we could get into it! I’d love to run down every rabbit hole - digging into who we love and why we love them is an amplifier for joy. I wish we were in the same room. After all the names have been dropped, arguments made, and praise given, I guarantee there would be one genre left out in the cold: Punk.

My favorite genre of music has no part in this conversation because, traditionally speaking, punk rockers suck at their instruments.

I fell in love with punk in college. Head-over-heels in love.

Punk was simple - so was I! 
Punk was angry - so was I?
Punk was PURE - well, I wanted to be. 

There was something magnetic about these short, direct songs played by barely competent musicians with a speed and earnestness that incited mosh pits and melted faces. 

The power of the genre lies in a simple truth: You do not have to be good. You just have to mean it.

I spent years wanting to make comics. I didn’t though. Because…
1. I couldn’t draw.
2. No one else was interested in drawing my stories for me. 

Here’s the thing: that first part wasn't true. I could draw, just at an elementary school level. My problem was ego and it was invisible to me.

I wanted to make something great, like Hellboy or East of West and if I drew it? If I drew it, it would look shitty, so I didn’t even try. Time eroded my ambition. Slowly but surely it whittled it down from, “I want to make something great,” to, “I want to make something.” 

That is where I reconnected with my punk roots. I was a piss-poor artist, but what if I was earnest? What if I meant it? What if I believed in the story I was telling? Would that be enough?

It was enough to make it & enough to share it. 

A panel from Bean Noir - created for the 2020 Inktober challenge.

My first comic oozes 2020 angst, but guess what? It connected. Not with a ton of people but that handful was all I needed. It kept me writing. It kept me drawing.

Shitty is not my goal. I still want to make something great. I just don’t need what I am drawing right now to fulfill that dream.

Along the way, I found something in the gutter of my creative process:
To move a human heart, you do not have to be good. You just have to mean it.

Catch you next month on the third!

JT⚡