Review: Road Crew

There are few names more evocative of rock and roll than Tommy. It is fitting that the penwrite of Road Crew, at least shares the sound of that magical name. The Road Crew follows the unheralded members of music with jokes that are leaden and panels that are pointedly, not child-friendly. It is difficult to gauge the authenticity of the strip from my position behind a type-writer but it certainly feels accurate. Brooding with sophomoric permanence. Dark, interspersed with naked vixens. Opinionated, staunchly against singing drummers (applause). Full of music knowledge and no care for spelling. Characters that look foreign and strung out on… well everything one could be strung out on. In short, authentic to my visage of the rock and roll industry.

Though sometimes the figures look like zombies in drag, the comic makes Oprah appear unctuous; short of covering the paper in butyrin or muck, this is in itself impressive. Nauseating but impressive. If ever a anthropomorphic, visual dictionary is made of any one of these characters it could deno-illustrate ‘tool’. Kudus for use of Oprah as… well you just have to see it for yourself.

In the first Road Crew compellation, “Electric Ladyland”, you get to relive or experience for the first time (if you have been under a rock, Yanni fan maybe) the quick wit of the Road Crew. Callous disregard for sound quality with a hint of questionable paternity fills the pages which pick up and fall with a fast and furious pace. If you abide the adage “sex, drugs and rock and roll” you’ll love Road Crew, a fun filled romp throughout the back allies behind the behind-the-music. After reading Electric Ladyland you might need a tenuous shot and a bath though.


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