012: THE FALL OF ANOTHER YEAR

THE GHOSTS OF CHRISTMAS FUTURE

Good morning from Yeovil, South Somerset, where a time-machine recently materialised outside Superdrug.

The locals don’t seem particularly bothered by it, though…

Still, this is Yeovil, the ancient paranormal capital town of Wessex, and people in these parts are kinda blasé - jaded, even - about poltergeists, pataphysical entities and pixies. Slendermen, haunted Youtube videos - “Pah! Been there, seen that, pal!” Yeovilians are more cynical than New Yorkers. They’ve had their fill of all that stuff. Well, you would, wouldn’t you? Still, a time-traveller…

I wonder if it’s that moustache-twirling Edwardian rogue, Dr. Calendar? Or maybe it’s Mister AI or - ulp! - Snavel DeLorean, the Temporal Tyrant from 2249, who terrorises the time-lines in his Chronohedron, accompanied by a clunky, retro-looking Muskbot that looks like a piece of bacofoil origami crossed with a walking Cybertruck. I hope not! - that guy’s a twat. Or worse: it could be Time Kid - the mischievous and annoyingly precocious child genius from 1957 who you have to trick into saying his own name in Binary before he’ll return to his own era. I hope he doesn’t bring any lysergic bubblegum with him this time. Or rocket roller-skates.

Or Buddy Holly’s head.

So far there’s been no attempt to take over Yeovil Town Council using unfathomable future tech, no solemn warnings of the terrible fate that awaits us if we don’t change our evil ways (we know, we know!), no attempt to crash the Stock Market (we can do that ourselves, thank you very much), win the Football Pools or corner a 23rd century market in rare Taylor Swift memorabilia. Eras Tour souvenir tea towels, I’m told, are particularly sought after on the Amazonplex asteroid mining colony of Bezos Hole. Here, a single faded, threadbare Speak Now (Taylor’s Version) Koi Fish Zip-up Hoodie is worth more than the entire GDP of the planet Mars. Time-travellers: I trust them pasty-faced, tachyon-dodgin’, temporally-disentangled trouble-makers even less than present-day billionaires!

Meanwhile, I’ve been busy lately, mostly writing comic-book scripts. When the most recent one was signed off last week, I thought about squeezing out another one before my editor broke for Xmas, but decided instead to down tools, something I don’t particularly find easy to do. So I’ve spent the last few days making music, hanging out with friends old and new, and indulging myself in some goofball art projects. Even drawing! I tend to recharge my batteries by doing different things rather than nothing. I’m bad at sitting still.

I did, however, disappear off to Falmouth (via Truro) for a weekend away with my wife – going to Cornwall in December now seems to be a thing. Falmouth’s pretty damn cool, if you’ve never been there - full of interesting stuff. Here are a few places to check out if yr ever down that way:

• The Rubicund anarchist vegan coffee and book shop where I had a great browse and an extremely stimulating chat with the owner and one of his regulars. (There are some other interesting shops in St Georges Arcade: a cubbyhole-sized second-hand book shop, an anime / manga figurine shop that, bizarrely, also had a copy of #5 of Supergod by Warren Ellis & Garrie Gastonny; and a 2nd-hand DVD / book shop).

• Beerwolf Books: a book shop in a pub – or is it a pub in a bookshop? – has a really cool, un-Waterstones selection of books, including some unexpected authors and titles, not to mention some bloody decent cider. First time I walked they were playing The Ramones. A good sign.

• Fuel: a café that sells some totally top nosh and is gluten-free and vegan friendly. We enjoyed the grub so much that we went back for more – recommended!

• I spent a very happy hour or so in Sounds OK, a great little record shop on Arwenack Street. Again, like Rubicund, the owner was super-friendly and up for a chat. When I asked what he was playing - (an Incredible String Band type Psych-Folk track) - he showed me the Sumer Is Incumen In CD box-set on Grapefruit that contained some of the usual suspects like Comus, Dr. Strangely Strange, Pentangle, etc plus some people I never suspected had dabbled in Psych-Folk (Kevin Coyne!) and some acts I’d never even heard of. “I can’t sell you it, ‘cos it’s my own copy!” he laughed and proceeded to enthusiastically read me some of the more far-out sleeve notes in the extensive accompanying booklet. Now that’s customer service for ya!

• There was also a Folklore Museum - Gwithi An Pystri - but it seemed to be closed until mid-Dec. Also note, if visiting: a lot of Falmouth businesses don’t really do mondays.

Finally, no visit to Falmouth would be complete without a major mooch round the legendary Trago Mills. Regular readers will be aware that I am fond of getting lost in Everything Shops (when I can find one! They’re an increasingly scarce beast, nearly as rare as urban unicorns). Trago might lack the intimate, twisting, labyrinthine nature of a premium Everything Shop, but what it lacks in cosily intimate, geometry-defying, Non-Euclidean Retail it makes up for with its mind-boggling range of stock. (Trago is Trago, so let’s bracket it as an Honorary Everything Shop, hm?). Where else could you find boxes containing early King Crimson albums, purple guitar plectrums, books of black card and super-cheap branded oil paints all under the same roof? (Yes, these are some of the things I purchased). And how many other shops have a view like this from their Arts and Crafts aisle?

As 2024 winds down like a crackly old gramophone sat humming to itself in a dark corner of a dusty haunted attic, I’d like to wish All The Very Best to you and yours. Whether you celebrate the coming holiday(s) or not, may you find an oasis of peace, calm and contentment in the closing days of the year. May there be lights and laughter where you live, and your days be spent with like-minded souls. Together, we can make 2025 a better, more hopeful year. Just remember:

Never trust a time-traveller! ;-)

Yer pal, Kek

I’m Kek. I’m a writer - mainly of comic books, but not entirely. I’ve also written prose books, film and TV scripts. I write horror, science fiction, science fantasy, New Weird adjacent speculative fiction, war stories, humour and satire. I also make music in a variety of different genres and unique, handmade pieces of abstract art.

HUMANE DEBRIS is an attempt to slide out from under the collapsing, necrotic wreckage of social media and create a safe, fun, breathing space for myself and like-minded weirdos. But if it’s not yr cuppa tea, don’t worry, an unsubscribe button can be found at the bottom of the page. Thx for dropping by. Appreciate you taking a look.

SOME MUSIC WOT I MADE

I made a Christmas track - “A Long, Cold, Lonely Morning” - under my signalwave / broken transmission / slushwave alter-ego, SILO TOWERS 12.3GHz, which can be found on the new Christmas compilation album from Endogenic Noise. It’s a melancholic, slushed-out piece of broken ambient that sounds like a damaged tape or a short-wave radio tuned to a parallel 1981 and you can find it here:

NOTHING LEFT BUT THIS is an album of Blackened DIY Dungeon Synth that I released a few weeks ago. It’s morbid and Metal af. There are still a small handful of dual-coloured black n red, hiss-smeared cassette tapes left. There is also a d/l version if yr, y’know, scared that the tape might be cursed or somethin’.

JOHN M BURNS / NIGHTMARE NEW YORK

As Nightmare New York reaches its fearsome finale in 2000AD, I caught up with artist David Roach to chat about his work on the Historical-Horror series and taking over the strip’s artistic reins from the legendary John M Burns - someone who was a hero to both of us. Thanks to David for sparing the time to share his thoughts.

KW: Nudge my memory, David: what was the first point at which you got involved in NNY? Did you hear from Matt after I spoke to him? Or did I mention it to you? I can't quite remember the sequence of events. I know I spoke to John and then to Matt after saying to John I thought you were the only artist I could imagine pulling this off... but then I'm a bit fuzzy about events. You and I spoke at The Comics Expo in Bristol in ’23 - I remember that! I'm guessing Matt approached you?

DR: My recollection is that I walked over to your table for a chat and you mentioned that John had to stand down, that you and Matt had talked about me replacing him, and that you felt very keen that it should be me. It was only later, possibly a few days later that Matt actually wrote to me asking if I‘d be interested. I wonder if I had to feign surprise? There was never any doubt that I’d say yes!

Way back in March 1973 I bought my first ever comic with my own money, it was TV Action #111 and I was only 8 years old. To say the comic had a profound effect on me was an understatement, I completely adored it and begged my parents to buy it for me every week. That first comic directly lead me to a life in comics, as an artist, and the cover and two strips were drawn by a certain John M Burns - and he along with Gerry Haylock and Jose Ortiz - absolutely captivated me. So it feels all too poignant and perfect that I, somehow, became the person to finish his final strip. Blimey!

KW: Oh, that's beautiful, David. Thank you. Yes, it all has a strange, wonderful symmetry about it. That John's work captured your imagination and ultimately propelled you into being an artist yourself is quite a thing. John's work - though I had no idea it was John at the time - was a big part of my own comic-reading journey. He was a constant in my own early reading, going back to UK nursery comics in the 60s. The span of his career is quite breath-taking. The number of lives he touched is remarkable.

DR: So true. We send this work out, never knowing who it might touch. My musician friend Anthony Renolds is loving Nightmare right now...

KW: I have to ask, David: what was it that John did in TV Action #111 that touched such a chord with you? What was it that 'spoke' to you?

And was it seeing then his work regularly in TV Action (and, later, elsewhere) that lead to him becoming yr favourite artist?

DW: Gosh, I was 8! What did I know, other than that the art just seemed incredibly exciting. His covers were astonishing, fully painted movie poster style affairs, still some of the best work of his career. But having said that, it was definitely his work on UFO, which I think I had seen on TV by that point, which most grabbed me. It was the strange angles and creative, psychedelic colours which fans loved so much about his Countdown strip, though I hadn’t seen that of course, along with the SF genre as a whole, scenes on the moon, aliens, girls with purple hair, you know where I’m coming from - the good stuff. I’m not sure it’s possible to pinpoint why exactly some styles talk to you more than others, but I’ve always been attracted to the best draughtsmen, the most inventive styles, even as a kid I never settled for any old artwork, it had to be the best.

Does that make sense?

KW: It does! (laughs) Purple hair did it for me too! (laughs)

DW: It’s a 70s thing... I think the first time I became aware of art was when I became fixated on a print on the wall of my local hairdresser!

DW: As you can see it’s a fantastic piece of 60s style design by the artist Michael Johnson, not a million miles away from John’s work in some ways. I think I saw it at around the same time I started buying comics for myself - in 1973 when I was 8. Comics absolutely grabbed me, and when I discovered Marvel comics that was even more of an obsession. They seemed somehow more gripping from a writing point of view, and more attainable artistically. I had the 1974 Dan Dare annual which was another massive inspiration, but the art by Hampson in the book, along with the strips by John, Haylock, Ortiz, Bellamy, Noble, Romero et al in TV action seemed completely beyond reach. Clearly I was deluded that I could get anywhere near the level of Gil Kane, for instance, but it did inspire me to try to draw comic characters. It felt like it was attainable, albeit with a lot of practice. Honestly, my attempts were pretty awful.

I had always drawn though - mostly aeroplanes until I was around 10 when I became obsessed with superheroes. I didn’t really draw strips though, not until I was in art school and put out my fanzine called Hellfire - weird eh? It was the act of drawing that appealed, rather than a desire to tell stories particularly. Even now my greatest enjoyment is drawing the figure, in life-drawing sessions or my giant pencil nudes. It’s there where I feel I can really express myself artistically There was never a time when I wasn’t completely obsessed with comics though. I never stopped buying them, particularly when I discovered Warren comics which introduced me to so many new names from around the world. I have a vast collection of work by artists from Spain, Italy, Argentina, France, the Philippines, anywhere they create great art. I’m always looking for new work, new discoveries, I can’t seem to help it!

Am I crazy? You decide...

KW: I thought that transition episode [episode #5, where you took over from John, using his layouts as a guide] was an incredibly beautiful and moving combination of art styles. Think I mentioned to you before: it reminded me of the comics I grew up with - that classic Brit comic strip vibe, Frank Bellamy, etc. You and John were a dynamite combo!

[David pointed me at his Facebook page - for the definitive answer to my comment]:

 DR: When I heard I'd been given the job I asked john if he had any character sketches or roughs he could send me, so I could get up to date with the strip - and it turned out that Episode #5 was already underway. John was kind enough to send me what he'd done, which was a real mixture of roughs, finished pencils and even some inks. I felt the best thing to do was to use John's work as a jumping off point, so I traced though what he had already drawn, redrawing a lot of in my own style, and here and there fixing some continuity glitches. The whole thing was then coloured by the great Peter Doherty who's been colouring my work for a few years now. Here are the two versions of page 1 so you can compare what John and I had drawn.

DW: I guess it goes without saying that the job was both an honour and rather bitter sweet; Just as I was finishing the episode the news came through that John had died, so the whole story has taken an an added poignancy.

KW: I feel the bittersweet thing very keenly too, David, whenever I look at or think about this series. Very few weeks go by where I don’t find myself thinking about John at some point or other. He left quite an impact and impression on me and my life.

When you moved to the next ep - #6 - how did you approach the page layouts, panel composition etc to keep consistency during the transition, etc. Did you have any tricks / techniques you’re okay with sharing?

DR: For episode 5, I was working with John’s compositions, so for episode 6 I tried to lay it out with a similar feel - that is, the same sort of size of figures in the panels (John’s figures tend to fill the panels giving them lots of oomph!), similar angles and dynamics. I’m not sure I really got that because I’ve seen reviewers mention it looked more like my own style anyway! The drawing underneath it all is always going to be my own style anyway, whatever the compositions were like. I was trying throughout the series to create a sense of place and depth so I think that ended up feeling very different to John’s episodes, increasingly so with each successive episode. I’ve been looking at a lot of Dino Battaglia - he’s the master of old crumbling towns!

KW: I was also wondering if you felt, I dunno, 'intimidated' in taking over from John - or whether you got caught up in the excitement / buzz instead? Your line work felt VERY confident and bold to me - so sympathetic to what John laid down before - so if you were apprehensive it certainly didn't come across in the work...

DR: You know, all artists need to be deluded that they’re pretty good or they wouldn’t be able to draw anything! I’ve had to follow great artists throughout my career so it’s really best not to dwell on any feelings of inadequacy and just jump on in! It’s easy to get bogged down in worries about following on from someone great, but perhaps readers might appreciate one’s own style for what it is, rather than what it isn’t. At least I always put in a lot of effort into each page, so whatever their limitations the intent is good. If it all looked good to you, then half my job is done!

KW: I was also going to ask you about the colouring. At one point you mentioned getting yr daughter to colour it. When / how did Peter come back into the frame?

DR: I might have vaguely asked Matt about the colouring, yes, but he'd already decided Peter was colouring it anyway. As it turned out Emily wasn't totally sure of herself, so it was all for the best. She's a bit more confident now that we've done some covers together, all based on my colour roughs and suggestions.

Thanks for the great insights, David! Much appreciated! Hmm… running out of space and time here – it’ll be Christmas if I don’t get this issue-episode out into the wild soon! Maybe I’ll try’n get Peter to come on here next time round to talk a bit about the colouring process on NNY. His work on this series, like David’s and John’s, was phenomenal.

KID SHIRT’S CRATE DIGS

Here at HUMANE DEBRIS, we don’t do End-of-Year Lists. If you want a Best of 2024 list then the Wire magazine Christmas issue is yr best option, or Bandcamp’s Lists or GQ magazine - er, sorry, I meant Pitchfork. For me, enjoying music is tightly entangled with the spirit of exploration and forward movement. Though you will also from time to time see the same names reappear on HD because I also believe in celebrating the work of friends, allies and fellow travellers. And, with that in mind, as forewarned last time round, I paid a visit to the Margin Forever experimental music all-dayer at the Cube cinema, Bristol, in late November. And I’m very glad I did!

Here’s the low-down:

David David were a thudding, whirring, buzzing, clattering, thrumming mish-mess of drums and (I’m guessing) processed samples that walked a tightrope between impulsive outburst-spasms and slow, constantly shifting, manipulated microloops. Music which flittered between formalism and a sort of roughshod funk. Like Farmers Manual jamming with Tony Oxley.

It’s been a while since I actively sought out Harsh Noise Wall music (I was once on the same bill as Vomir, though, but thankfully didn’t have to follow them, and I’ve recently been digging some of the harsher, more austere mush released on Endogenic Noise), but Slow Murder make refreshingly Bro-Free HNW. Live, it was very crunchy and kinda granular sounding with sudden splintered sheets of vocal shrnnnhk-kk-k injection - quietly thrilling, yet oddly ‘relaxing’ (my non-norm brane digs the nano-complexity embedded in the swirling atomic blizzard of sound - the glacial eye at the centre of the storm). So, I was pleasantly surprised to find out SM’s sound was being generated, not digitally, but by an analogue source - a Korg MS-20 Mini synth. A chat with Jo Slow Murder afterwards (who kindly gave up part of their post-show smoke break to talk gear and process, and I’m very appreciative of that) revealed that assorted Boss and Behringer delay and distortion pedals were also involved along with a DevTech Summoner.

Artist-musician Jo Hellier (a different Jo, this time) cast a series of intimate, spellbinding (literally, since she also practices DIY magic) loop-driven improv voice pieces. Real pin-drop / goose bump stuff, interrupted only by the occasional sound of her own baby ‘talking’ to her from the auditorium. I loved the accompanying colour-lit footage of soil, loamy dirt and root systems being moved by an off-camera spade: it was like a slooow, tiny earthquake. An uncovering of hidden inner-earthly strata. A revealing of the Unseen and the Unsaid.

Milkweed are a self-declared ‘slacker trad’ duo – voice, gtr, banjo and, er, tapes – expressive and dramatic, yet also playfully self-aware / funny and not a’feared to err on the side of the experimental and the slightly erratic. Too focused / disciplined to be ‘ramshackle’, they incorporate smudges of sound and spluttering, muffled, off-kilter loops in among their musical story-telling. They feel rooted in tradition whilst also simultaneously subverting it. At points, it felt like they were almost trying to disrupt their own performance – musically heckling themselves, so to speak - by throwing in short unexpected tangents and breathless micro-digressions – testing its elastic limit. Who knew a song-cycle about (I think?) a king of Ulster could be so engrossing?

Mosquito Farm are an ‘object theatre’ – an orchestra of things, if you like – a system of precarious-looking, quasi-sculptural, handmade instruments set in motion and musically tended by builders Grace Black and Maddie Banwell. The pair crouch and squat in among their creations which are laid out on the stage like a weird play-pen of electro-mechanical… stuff: motors, dog bowls, upturned cymbals, wires, clamps and mics. A solemn, library-like hush falls as different object-systems are set in motion and do their turn, clicking, vibrating, ringing, each set-up seemingly teetering on the edge of collapse, tension created by the threat of a potential failure that never quite comes, and punctuated by moments of unexpected hilarity as household objects and Maplin electrical components go off-script and make rude or inappropriate noises – like wayward children testing their boundaries and the patience of their creator-parents.

I had a great time hanging out with Owen and Charlie, Rob the Cardboard Prince and the mighty Yol who I’ve not seen in the flesh since we both appeared on the same bill at an Ian Watson curated all-dayer in Cardiff many years ago - though we collaborated recently on the Yolkek cassette album release “Big Pylon”. If yr not familiar with Yol’s practice and his incredible back-catalogue, he’s a performance / sound artist who works with found objects and text to create unsettling commentaries on a society that’s been left broken, toothless and braindead by rapacious capitalist strip-mining and social engineering. He’s also a very accomplished visual artist. His performances are frazzled and fractious, as unnerving and disturbing as they are funny. Getting him to perform in the packed, claustrophobically intimate setting of the Cube’s small bar area was a genius move. It ramped up the tension and unease to a palpable level. The performance was intense. Seeing the expressions on the faces of people who had never encountered him or his work before was priceless. I’m a fucking fan.

Unfortunately, I had to leave soon after Yol’s set to get the last stagecoach back to the badlands of South Somerset, so I missed Esme’s latest band, Fashion Tips, who I really wanted to see. The group rocked up just as I was leaving. What a GREAT day, tho! Thanks to everyone involved in organising, staging and performing at this.

Meanwhile, you can check out Charlie’s radio show on Camp here. It’s full of cool shit, and also includes live recordings taken from the Cube show that Charlie says start at around 57 mins in.

Enjoy!

KEK’S WORD OF THE DAY

Phenakistiscope.

CHILL WITH KIKI

Until next time round, rockers. Stay warm, happy and safe!