Yeah! Headbutts! It's me and Eddie Argos' awesome AXL ROSE comic strip! Behold the glory! (And click here if you want to read it in a neat player thing where you can flip the pages!)
The strip was originally published in Art Brut's Brilliant! Tragic! The Comic Book, which came out last month, just before I got married, hence me only finding time to write about it now. The comic is a companion piece to Art Brut's brilliant new album which is also called Brilliant! Tragic! and was produced by Black Francis, of Frank Black And The Catholics and some other band no one's heard of. I was deeply honoured to be asked to contribute to the thing. I was told I could pick any song from the album I wanted, and do a comic based on it, so naturally I chose Axl Rose, as I love Axl Rose, and when I was almost a teenager he was my hero and my inspiration, something the song communicates perfectly.
I still love Axl Rose, actually. I think he is a G. Lots of people think that Axl Rose is an asshole. He has a terrible public image, perpetuated and created by idiots and fools and suckfish with foul-breath and questionable morals. Some are jealous of his brilliance, some hate him because he doesn't do what rock stars are supposed to, because he never sold out, because he says what he thinks no matter what the current political consensus, because he refuses to be a caricature glove puppet for corporate Nu West (unlike certain top-hat-and-fag combos that love to such scaly Satan cock and shuck and jive for Mastah). Axl Rose was (and remains) a true rebel and a revolutionary. If you take time to actually listen to his lyrics you will find a social commentary and a dark wit to rival Dylan at his peak, with all the spittle and rage of a young Hunter Thompson.
Anyway, like I said, it was a great honour to have been asked to contribute to this great collection of comic strips. My work appears alongside some truly gorgeous stuff from great artists like Jamie McKelvie and Jeffrey Lewis and Chris Hayley and Jeffrey Brown and Hope Larson and Sian Superman and Patrick McQuade and loads of other awesome bastitches. You can read further details here, and you can buy it here. I suggest you do, because it is lovely, and Rare, and you will be able to show it to your grandkids and go, "look, see how all the professional comics artists knew to draw it to British A4 size and Akira The Don drew it for American Comic Book size! Ha! Ha! What a spoon! But it is a lovely strip. I love Axl Rose too. He was an inspiration to all of us. May he live forever."
So I fell alseep on the sofa after 5, and was awakened gently by Super Phil at 6:20, and it transpired Bird left my bag with my passport in it at the venue last night. But Bird's got me another ID card, so we're outside waiting for Jeff to pick us up at 6:30. And at midday we're in LA, and soon after that we're in Interscope's offices,and I'm filling a bag with Nirvana, Guns N Roses, Gilbert And Sullivan, Dre, Peter Gabriel, Police and other such back catalogue. Jimmy Iovine has a signed letter from Tupac and a video console that won't switch on. And loads of ideas. A balcony. A lush view. LA is lush to look at, from these places of advantage. Like, later we visit Jeff and Trent's, and there's this fucking alien cat that loves me, and an incredible, incredible view, of this desolate wilderness spattered with money.
It was a lovely day.
But in the nighttime it is hard not to see that LA is awash with cunts. It is a sad and massive amount of cunts, and I am not sure whether it is sad because this is what the world did to them, or because this is what they do to the world, or because they are cunts, and you can see their faces rotting right in front of your eyes.