Photo by Ash Daniel

James Callahan is a prolific illustrator who has both created his own work with Barf Comics and contributed to tons of different projects, including some great work for Thrash Metal revivalists Municipal Waste and ourselves. James illustrated our recent tees for Mastodon and video game, Brütal Legend, which makes him basically the most metal dude who ever lived by proxy. If only he weren’t such a sweet guy.

In addition to all this, Callahan is the co-founder and art director for Born Ugly Magazine and he is working on his first graphic novel, Rotting in Dirtville. This season James also illustrated the Superfiends! t-shirt for our Summer 2011 line. A design that features all our favorite mascots done up as an 80′s cartoon super team in what has to be the best combination of things we love since peanut butter and chocolate. He took some time to speak with us recently about his influences, motivations, and future projects.

James Callahan: Think of the shittiest, most corn-ball joke you’ve ever heard. Now make it ten times shittier. Now draw a picture of it. That’s Barf Comics. It’s Leslie Nielsen and Weird Al high fiving in the center of a black hole. Or, if you want an answer that isn’t stupid, it’s me drawing stuff for record covers and skateboards.

How do you discern what kind of artwork to do when you’re commissioned by bands, like Municipal Waste? Does the music influence what you do in a major way, or do you just do whatever comes to you?

James Callahan: Sometimes people ask for something very specific, and sometimes they leave it wide open. When it’s left up to me, I try to come up with some combination of subject matters and styles that I’ve never seen done before, as futile a task as that can often be.

I usually am trying to come up with an image that, when I’m done and I step back, either makes me laugh, wince, or leaves me stupified…or all of the above.

James Callahan: Anything by Daniel Clowes, Jim Phillips, Frank Miller, Winsor McCay, and Charles Burns were endless sources of brain food. I couldn’t get enough of that stuff. It’s ruined me. I was also a a huge fiend for all things Batman or EC horror comic related. Really though, if I didn’t have to narrow it down… everything, all at once, every second, forever. I love comics.

What upcoming personal projects are you working on?

James Callahan: I drew the last two issues of Pirates of Coney Island, written by Rick Spears, which should be coming out this year. I’ve also been working on another comic with Rick called Die Pumpkin, Die.

I just had a project come out from Carhartt‘s skate division that I’m still amped on. Summon The Snake Beast was a three board series with a full color comic that I wrote and illustrated. I’m real gassed on how that came out. Decks for Freedom Fighter, Demon Seed, Ready Amongst Willing, some new work for Thrasher Magazine, and there’s always some Born Ugly stuff in the works too.

Overkill - The Years of Decay (1989)

Vs.

Exodus – Bonded by Blood (1985)

We’re it back to albums again this week. East Coast vs. West Coast Thrash from two of the most under-appreciated Thrash metal classics ever recorded. What if only one could exist between the two, which would it be? What’s more important… personal relevance, cultural significance, or simply being the better album all other things aside? Choice is yours…

There’s a new rapper-eater in town and he goes by Action Bronson. The bearded psychopath straight murders the mic, in addition to a helpless female victim, with the slick demeanor of a well-trained, repeat offender. The video for his song “Brunch,” a single off his recent full-length Dr. Lecter, breaks out from behind bars and pounces at your jugular with a calm fury of rhymes executed with expertise timing and ripping, homicidal urges.

Jazzy, soulful samplings backdrop Bronson’s rhythmically calculated flows as the deadly plot unfolds before our very eyes. Bound, gagged, and unconscious, the pretty little victim becomes food for worms at the hands of the maniacal emcee as he simultaneously regurgitates verses as if it were second nature. Bred from the underground and having literally crawled out from under a rock, the rapper is engineered to destroy, not unlike some other killers I know…cough, cough, us.

The childrens TV network, Nickelodeon, has, as with anything, undergone a considerable transfiguration since its commencement as a predominantly animation-based channel, splintering off into subsidiaries such as TeenNick and Nick Jr. Fluctuating interest in live-action programming amongst their target audience has left it almost unrecognizable to anyone born before 1995. But change isn’t always a bad thing. Let go of Rugrats because the acne-ridden viewers have spoken and deemed Miranda Cosgrove their new master and commander.

iCarly is a teen comedy show centering around a girl’s “talent” video webcast mostly concerned with boy problems, hijinks amongst friends, and other prepubescent frippery. The program exhibits the same disposition of earlier adolescent sitcoms like Lizzie McGuire with the precious, slightly chubby Hillary Duff and Zoey 101, starring the innocent, petite, and pre-pregnancy Jamie Lynn Spears. This is a phenomenon that has gone un-talked-about until now, with a following spanning outside of the suggested 8-12 year old age bracket, the series has gleaned attention from the twenty something crowd and tapped into the adult viewership market.

I, myself, am an avid iCarly fan, making no buts about it, as I follow the underdeveloped tweens season after season with eyes transfixed upon the tight virginal asses of fictional characters Carly Shay and Sam Puckett, her blonde, fair-skinned co-host. This past week, I found myself sitting next to a couple friends, of whom I shall not name lest I tarnish any manly reputations, casually drinking beer and enjoying a unique episode in which bombshell Victoria Justice along with some of the cast from the older, hotter sister of teenie productions, Victorious, combine forces in a crossover episode with the iCarly actors and actresses, creating a fusion of perky tits, round butts, and sexual innuendo.

The hour-long television feature, iParty with Victorious, is, in a nutshell, the reason why I tune in at 7 pm eastern daily to attend the preteen pussy parade as a couchside voyeur. iParty is considered a movie-length special, the second after iGo to Japan, wherein Carly’s douchey boyfriend turns out to be a grade A player, also introducing his baby boner to her friend Tori Vega. Can you really blame him though? Victoria is the sweetest piece of tail in children’s TV and she knows it. I’m pretty sure that actor’s role was, in someway, written in as a reference to Justin Bieber’s proposed sexual romp with both stars. This can’t be proven but I have an inkling that the gimmicky hair-flipping little showdog had his grubby paws all over my ethnic angels irl.

The success of teen sitcoms with the older crowd is something I believe roots not only in the deep-seated primitive pedophilic desires of every man, an explanation for the prosperity of barely legal skin flicks, but in a more closeted fondness for naively youthful relationship drama. Watching minors sort out their microcosmic but nonetheless real issues addresses that part of everyone that longs to be back in their old school halls. At this point, it’s either watch iCarly or “people watch” outside the local high-school waiting to get cuffed.

At the end of the day, there are those that will scoff at the prospect of watching a “children’s” show as an older male, condemning myself and other man-fans for deviancy and sexual immorality. Writing this article is my way of owning up to the fact that yes, I am a sicko with a soft spot for juvenile television. The girls of iCarly and Victorious are eager to please at the click of a button, as Lamour Supreme and Greg Mishka now know…don’t knock it ’til you try it.

Killer Mike – PL3DGE (2011) [SMC] // Grade: A

You really cannot front on Killer Mike. Dude keeps it real, keeps it trill, and has fun. These days that’s uncommon amongst rappers. And Mike stands out in the company of Southern rappers, as well as rappers in general. For Mike it’s not just about putting out a recorded artifact with a few singles that’ll get him paid. And while I can’t say exactly what his motivations are–if you read this man, hit me up because I’d be honored to do an interview–it’s not tough to glean what they very well might be. Mike is a dude who cares about his people, from his family, to his hood, to his region, to his fellow Americans. Unlike a lot of today’s celebrities who shirk their responsibility to fans in exchange for a selfish carefree indulgence in a life of luxury (lookin at you Kanye, Wayne, and Diddy), Killer Mike doesn’t forget where he came from, doesn’t stumble as he carries us all on his back.

The record starts off with a warbly horn sample that sounds like it might have come from a VCR at some point. The opening track “So Glorious” is a proclamation of who Mike is: a real hustler. He can talk about getting money without being ignorant, he can make moves without stepping on everyone around him, and he can rap damn good. Is he the best rapper out there? No, but he is more than competent enough. Dude gets on the beat and acts like an adult. No inexperienced flow, no doo doo lazy ca ca, it’s all considered. He does a great job of selecting beats, and the sound ranges from trap leaning minor key ridin’ tunes, to uplifting bangers, and slow windin’ soul vibes. Of course there’s a song in 3/4 (Follow your Dreams), and over the course of the record his perspective keeps the lyrics interesting. He’s constantly vacillating between rap staple bravado, “wait, what did he just say,” rewinds, and uplifting motivation. For instance, on the intense socio-critical “That’s Life 2″ Mike lets rappers know: “Think about it what’s a rapper standin next to Warren Buffet/hahaha there you rappers are properly enlightened.” I don’t give a fuck how hard you are, or how much rap money you got, (aside from maybe Jay, and 50) you ain’t really got shit, cause Warren Buffet is the epitome of ballin. He’s donated more than most rappers ever make, and the same kind of responsibility that drives Buffet to help those around him is what is driving Mike.

You can’t go long without Mike reminding you of your role in a system that you didn’t create, and he encourages you to start thinking about how the system exploits you. It’s easy to make the connection here to Punk rock, or whatever else I’m not gonna talk about, but surprisingly enough, the less obvious connection is the beginning of hip hop. Hip hop was the residue of some people who spoke out against a system that was killing them. The only difference between 1970′s South Bronx inhabitants, and 2011 United States inhabitants, is that we’ve been fucked at a much slower pace. It’s taken 20 or 30 or 40 years, but we as citizens find ourselves in a state similar to that of the South Bronx. We’re losing the most important parts of our infrastructure, and government has—in large part—turned its back on us and gotten into bed with financial institutions. In a country where loyalty is rarely reserved for the greater good we have a serious need for voices that encourage more than the ascension of the individual to a pillar of consumption. Mike is a breath of fresh air because he’s not encouraging us to attempt to wade to the top of a sea of bullshit, he’s encouraging us to open our eyes, step out into life, and be empowered by his music.

In the latest video from Fl▲sh$i†, the Witch Housers present us with a vision of his idyllic summer beach party. Let’s not get  it twisted though; what we have here probably doesn’t align itself with the images many of you would associate with a typical afternoon at the shore. Fl▲sh$i†, also known as Nelson Dias Gonclaves, swaps out the beach balls and sunblock in the clip for “Black Rose,” instead giving us tarot cards, firearms, and a babe in Buckethead mask. Suffice it to say, nobody is going to get this one mixed up with the Beach Boy’s Kokomo video, or even less likely, an Annette Funicello flick.

As the the of sinister chords of “Black Rose” echo out, a bizarre ritual plays out on the beach, which doesn’t end very well for most of the parties involved. While most of the Baeleric tinged qualities exhibit in Gonclaves’ past work have pretty much vanished throughout the new track, director Julieta Triangular still saw it fit to set this thing near the surf. The clip starts out in typical dark and intense fashion, and really doesn’t let up until all is said and done. It’s not that the beach goers here walk away from their experience with feelings of  unhappiness… it’s just that they just don’t walk away at all.

There was simply no mistaking gal-about-town Roxy Cottontail when she recently came sauntering through our shop one fine New York afternoon. Sporting the latest Мишка Based cap atop a shock of pink hair, giving herself bunny ears for our photograph, the babe is essentially swagger personified. Look closely, and you may see this very Based cap bouncing around her forthcoming Lil’ Friday music video. Anyway, if you’re not familiar with Roxy’s work, hosting the infamous Monday night parties at Sway, or spinning tunes at one of her innumerable DJ gigs worldwide, you may have heard her waxing poetic on her very own radio program Booty and The Beat, or read her column in Missbehave Magazine. Needless to say, Roxy has been on her grind.

Sister-in-arms Acie Cottontail is pictured here as well, and may or may not be accompanying Roxy to Vegas this coming month, as she starts her DJ stint at GhostBar, housed within the prestigious Palms hotel. Everything kicks of in Vegas on July 13th, where Ms. Cottontail will be sure to bring her NYC dance floor sensibilities, to one of the world’s party capitals.

Finally, as if Roxy didn’t already have enough on her plate, she humbly requests your attendance at July’s Gay Pride Week. Claiming this particular period to be “one of the funnest weeks of the summer.”

Мишка
350 Broadway
Brooklyn, NY
718-388-1725

J/M/Z to Marcy Ave
G to Broadway
L to Lorimer

We’re thrilled to announce that come August we’ll be bringing you Main Attrakionz latest release, 808s & Dark Grapes II as a free download. We’ve been H-U-G-E fans of Squadda and Mondre for a minute now and we’re absolutely giddy to be behind this project. 808s & Dark Grapes II is the duo’s first real studio effort and we’ve got your first taste of the effort with the appropriately titled “Vegetables.”

“Vegetables” is produced by NoaBoa and any fans worried on what effect  getting into a real studio may have on Main Attrakionz, should put those concerns to rest. “Vegetables” takes every single thing that you fall in love from the Bay-Area based duo in the first place and really amps of the crispness ushering two of the most deserving emcees to the next level in their careers. Don’t be surprised if this shit will stays in your head for days and you get a sudden craving for broccoli.

Main Attrakionz – “Vegetables” From 808s & Dark Grapes II by Мишка Bloglin

Clams Casino – Rainforest EP [Tri Angle] // Grade: B+

EP is a bit of a stretch, it feels like there should have been at least one more song on here. Maybe Maxi-single would have been more apt? Anyways, that’s really the worst I have to say about this record, so let’s get on to the goodness. I am a firm believer that we’re entering a time of prosperity when it comes to music. I keep seeing ‘A’s on the Bloglin, but more importantly I keep hearing artistry in sound in so much music. We are only human, so we invariably fall into states where we run on a mindless track. We do it at work, we do it when we drive, we do it when we eat, it’s just part of contemporary life. I’m not gonna sit here and say some music is real art, and some isn’t. Some just reaches further into the bag when pulling out the trick. All music–even the stuff of pop superstars that is written and perfected by folks whose names will never be mentioned in conjunction with said artists, in order to maintain the celebrity fallacy–is art, and at the end of the day a world with more art is better than a world with less art.

I think Clams Casino has definitely shown us that he’s from a world of more art. When I first heard his beats I was reminded of cLOUDDEAD more than any current hip hop trends. If you don’t know cLOUDDEAD is an avant hip hop group from the Anticon family. cLOUDDEAD is representative of the absolute limits of hip hop, it’s hip hop deconstructed, and deconstructed more–it’s just drums churning and bumping through the ethereal patina of barely discernible samples turned atmosphere. Clams Casino is reminiscent of cLOUDDEAD in the execution: for Clams it’s not so much about making a song with memorable melodies, it’s more-so about creating an atmosphere, a way to fill the quiet space around us with sounds that speak to us. Clams’ beats are enlightened, they’re transcendent–recognizable, yet revelatory his approach signals a slight distinction that makes a world of difference. It’s not about pulling our heart strings, it’s about making music that strives for the heart strings’ sympathetic resonance; by being in this music, surrounded by it, we experience it.

It’s small, but it’s a big leap from the trend in contemporary music, which is to create music from the most concentrated distillation of emotion. Then we, as listeners are supposed to slam shot after shot of emotional concentrate. Eventually your ears just get wasted. My ears don’t get wasted when I listen to clams because his music is more like a body of water to explore, than a bottle of emotional concentrate. I know I’m out there, reaching hard with this metaphor, but just think on it a little bit. When you listen to these songs they’re not just exercises in empathy, they’re not just about making you feel something, they’re really about putting you in a place. Or more accurately, putting a place all around you. If you’re reading this you know what to expect from Clams, and this release won’t disappoint. It’s dope tunes and Rainforest makes for a rather apt title.

Upon arriving onto New York soil earlier this summer, it became fairly evident right off the bat that I’d need to familiarize myself with the city’s serpantine public transportation system. As I started to bomb around town a bit, I found myself hopping on the wrong subway trains more often than not, ending up in a number of foreign stops and stations along the way. One of the upsides to my clumsiness, however, was the first hand insight I was given into the handiwork of one of NY’s most prominent current graffiti writers.  Utilizing a trademark curly-cue at either end of his designs, while scrawling the word “moustache” across countless celebrity mugs, no movie or television ad was off-limits to the man native New Yorkers began referring to as the “Moustache Man”.

While we did get to spend a single glorious month together, it pains me to say that the Moustache Man has finally been caught by the fuzz. Known to personal acquaintances as Joseph Waldo, the 26-year-old Manhattan resident was charged this past weekend with felony criminal mischief as well as a number of other counts. Waldo was caught in the act, last Friday, on 8th ave. and 47th St. in Manhattan, right near his current employer, Gray Line Tours. According to the cops, Waldo was released without bail, and eventually caused upwards of 1,500 dollars worth of damage to New York Transit Property when all was said and done. Really, this figure doesn’t seem all that steep, when you take into account the immense number of locations that feature this guy’s distinct scrawl.

Moustache himself had recently begun to take part in interviews with a number of various websites and blogs, including this Q & A with EA Hanks. Authorities claim that these interviews, and overall expanding internet presence, ultimately tipped them off to Waldo’s whereabouts and usual haunts. It seems our boy was getting a little big for his britches.

Waldo’s responses to many of the interviewers queries here were fairly straight forward, but you never really get the sense that the dude took himself too seriously. Afterall, he was really only scribbling the word “moustache” on the celeb elite’s collective upper lip, with a permanent marker. Then again, I’d certainly be lying if I claimed that all the moustache nonsense was a nice change of pace from your run-of-the-mill swastikas and “spunking” dicks.