As You Were: A Punk Comix Anthology #1 (review)

As You Were: A Punk Comix Anthology – Issue #1 (2013, Silver Sprocket Bicycle Club) Review by Jessie Lynn

A lot of punks are not-so-secretly into comics, too.

It makes sense, as both punks and comics nerds are often ostracized by normies and ‘popular’ kids. Most times, the crossover happens because someone who was considered a geek for being into comics finds salvation and a place to belong in punk rock.

For me, it happened the other way around: I never felt particularly welcome in the world of comics, and therefore didn’t delve into them very much.

But after I got into punk, I discovered that a ton of people made their own comics, often about day-to-day type stuff like relationships and jobs and bike rides, and self-published them, zine-style.

I found indie comics, and punk comics, and I was hooked.

As You Were (curated by punk comics artist Mitch Clem) is set to be a reoccurring anthology; each issue will feature a variety of artists and their differing takes on a common theme. Issue #1’s theme?

House shows. Ah, house shows. Every punk has been to at least a few, and, like any show, they can be terrible or great or a mixture of both – except, at house shows, the greatness or terribleness is even more pronounced, because you’re thrown together with people in a much smaller space.

As You Were #1 has all kinds of perspectives on house shows, each offered up evocatively by a different artist.

Ramsey Everydaypants shows us the awkwardness of house shows: going to a show where you don’t know anyone, and feeling lonely and weird. Anthony Sorge gives us a hilarious – and paranormal! – house show. Mitch Clem does something different: he tells the story of a house show he didn’t attend. Liz Prince brings in a little more ‘spooky’ humor. Nation of Amanda gives us house show Bingo! Emilja Frances’ comic is a gorgeously rendered piece about enjoying the quiet after the show ends.

Also contained in this 72-page powerhouse are twelve other comics – all worth reading in their own right – and Liz Suburbia’s kick-ass centerfold.

And get this: it only costs $5. Even a broke punk like you can probably spare $5.

Purchase it HERE