I will confess to
following Marvel comics in the mid-70’s, a supermarket habit that I took up
while my Mom took our cocker spaniel to obedience school at the local armory.
I’ll even admit that I groaned a bit when I learned that she threw away all of
those comics-including a first issue edition of Howard the Duck.
That money could have come in handy living in a third floor, one
bedroom apartment with my girlfriend as we penny-pinched our way through our
early twenties. Instead, I just supplemented my income with used record and cd
sales. It became a routine ritual, particularly if I was going to see a band a
club later that same day. The extra money meant we could start with an import
or two before referring back to the regular Leinenkugel drafts.
It was around this same time when a younger friend of mine began
diving into the maddening world of record collecting. The harder the find, the
better potential for envy.
Most of our collected purchases stemmed from singles with
rare b-sides, import copies with obscure bonus tracks, and the occasional
bootleg where earned money was spent on cassette soundboard recordings.
But one day, my friend brought in a couple of comic books.
Not just the Marvel or hipster underground fare, but a comic book devoted
enitrely to rock and roll bands. I grabbed his copy of the Pearl Jam comic and
began to skim through it.
The artwork wasn’t bad from what I recall, but the storyline
presented was some glaringly fictionalized account of the beginnings of
everyone’s favorite Northwestern rock band, Pearl Jam.
Being a fan of rock and roll writ, I can attest to some basic
knowledge about certain rock and roll bands. While Pearl Jam is by no means a
favorite of mine-I once owned Ten
and now the only Pearl Jam related item in my collection is the single they did
with Neil Young-I do know the basic story of their origins.
The comic book version I was reading suggested that during the
band’s initial days, the members were struggling with a band name. That
challenge ended when a band member presented his bandmates with a Mason jar of
some of his aunt’s homemade jam that featured some hallucinogenic properties.
The comic book then declares the band settled upon a name after that psychedelic
spread in honor of the woman who created it.
The story is total horseshit, but I vaguely remember people
suggesting it back during that time when people pondered, “I wonder how Pearl
Jam came up with their name?” I stopped caring during the time they were known
as Mother Love Bone, and who the fuck wants to figure out that name origin.
I wouldn’t be surprised if that quote from the comic book was
completely butchered, but the point is, this is the same kind of research that
the comic was working with on this full color spotlight presented in the Pearl
Jam edition of Rock ‘n’ Roll Comics.
I never bothered to read another copy of Rock ‘n’ Roll Comics
after that, and my friend also stopped seeking out this fictionalized accounts
of other bands that were highlighted.
And the stores that carried Rock ‘n’ Roll Comics suddenly stopped
carrying these serials, leaving one with the impression that the company who
produced this stuff was beginning to run low on revenue.
Twenty years later, a
documentary was released that fully explains the history of that company as
well as the story of its eccentric owner, Todd Loren. The Story of Rock n Roll Comics presents
Loren as a very divisive man, one who is seen as some first amendment crusader
almost as much as he is for financially screwing the artists and writers who
helped bring his vision to the comic book page.
Before he became one of the most controversial figures in the
comic world, Todd Loren began as a mail-order retailer specializing in hard to find
imports and rare musical items. If you were looking for a bootleg of some Roger
Waters concert during the Pros and Cons
of Hitchhiking tour, then Loren’s company-Musicade-would probably
be a great place to find a copy.
Dealing in bootleg records and the like can be a tough racket, but
Loren was a tough cookie and he found success at a young age. Musicade adverts
could be found in the back of such publications as Rolling Stone magazine at
one point, but it wasn’t long after making such progress before Loren decided
to pitch the mail order business and combine his own love of music with another
passion: comics.
It was a parody comic of Bruce Springsteen that gave Loren the
idea of mixing the two art forms, and it was through unsavory business
practices that Todd collected a stable of writers and artists to come up with
creative ideas at a very low price.
The end result was a cheaply made yet unquestionably enviable idea
of taking rock folk lore and using it as the creative fictional spark for a
comic story line. My original complaint of the series lack of accuracy is about
as pointless as me arguing how there’s no way that cosmic rays are the reason
how the members of the Fantastic Four got their powers.
“It’s obviously not real…it’s a cartoon!” as Mojo Nixon wisely points out during one of
his interview segments on The
Story of Rock ‘n’ Roll Comics. Evidently, the two worked
together during Todd’s life and Nixon is used as one of Loren’s supporters,
both in his business practices and in his advocacy of the first amendment.
It’s that struggle which takes up the bulk of the film,
positioning Todd Loren as a true fighter of the right to free speech while the
other side presents him as an opportunist, someone who used the notion of the
first amendment as a thin cover for Loren’s ultimate goal: to make money.
Nothing exemplifies this more than Loren’s actions when he made
the decision to fold Musicade and start Revolutionary Comics, the comic book
company he started with some assistance from his father.
Not that Loren needed his old man for financial assistance, it
seems, just for moral support. It makes perfect sense that he’d look to his own
family for this given the fact that he effectively fired everyone from
Musicade, an act that is presented to swiftly in the documentary that it almost
seems callous and selfish.
Almost as soon as Loren started Revolutionary Comics, he attracted
controversy. He failed to distinguish the idea that bands might want to be in
control of the entire aspect of their career, even their visual image.
No sooner than did Revolutionary Comics turn away from things like
conspiracy theories, erotic hell ladies, and even sports figures, Loren found a
niche within the music fan base who found entertainment and collectability in
these very crude publications.
Almost immediately, Loren discovered that the world of rock and
roll is filled with lawyers and legal teams who have nothing more to do then
look for licensing infractions copyright infringement.
He wore this conflict like a badge of honor, devoting cover space
for the motto “Unauthorized…And Proud Of It!” which probably antagonized his
industry foe even more.
What killed them off for good was a court ruling that identified
Rock ‘n’ Roll Comics as work that was protected from legal action. After a
judge sided on Loren’s side, the company began ramping up production to include
everything from New Kids on the Block to Pink Floyd to the Sex Pistols.
He burned many bridges along the way, giving aspiring artists a
chance to be published for the first time while systematically disposing of
other ones who began to question the financial obligation that Loren offered
for their work.
He developed a rubber stamp contact. Literally. One that he used
on his payment checks, thereby forcing his contributors to sign away all rights
to their work in order for them to endorse their payment.
To his peers, his comics trivialized the work that they sought to
legitimize. The professional competition was eager to point out his company’s
shoddy layout and amateurish composition.
There’s also room to suggest that some of their complaints were
fostered from sour grapes, particularly when you learn about some projects
where the rock and roll artists themselves gave Loren verbal permission to
proceed with his unauthorized accounts while granting other publications
authorized status, for a fee.
Both Jerry Garcia and, surprisingly, Gene Simmons overlooked their
own organization’s litigious history and allowed Loren to continue his
serialized accounts of their bands. For Jerry, the decision was probably based
on some hippie idealism while Gene understood that any minor publication like
Rock ‘n’ Roll Comics would do more to help Kiss’ exposure than impact their
bottom line.
The Story of Rock ‘n’ Roll Comics does little to draw
much attention to Loren’s unfavorable image as an explanation for the violent
manner in which he died. As the documentary draws closer to its conclusion, it
announces how a father who became concerned at his son’s absence from work
suddenly turns into a homicide investigation.
Todd seldom missed work, so when he failed to show up one morning,
his father went over to his apartment only to discover his son’s body brutally
stabbed to death.
The gruesome discovery also provided his friends and family with
another shock: Loren was homosexual. His personal life was extremely private,
to the point where none of his friends and coworkers knew that he was
gay.
The case remains unsolved, but the killer’s pattern and location
match that of serial killer Andrew Cunanan, murderer
of fashion designer Gianni Versace. It’s widely believed that Todd was one of
Cunanan’s first victims, but with the killer’s suicide in 1997, it became
impossible to question him about his involvement with Loren’s 1992 murder.
With this strange twist, the story of Todd Loren and Rock ‘n’ Roll
Comics ends almost as immediately as it began. The series continued under the
leadership of Todd’s father for a few years after his murder, but the comics
failed to find direction without Loren’s unwavering drive and the business
folded.
The absence of Rock ‘n’ Roll Comics only made them that much more
collectible. As someone who remembers the comic’s past and can attest to their
questionable worth, I can’t say that I fully appreciate the higher cost these
comics command.
What I can appreciate is how The Story Of Rock ‘n’ Roll Comics successfully
explores the behind-the-scenes account of this niche business and becomes a more
fascinating topic than any of the storylines of their rock and roll
inspiration.
This review originally appeared in Glorious Noise.
