3 out of 5

I can tell you what happens in the first issue of The Ballad of Gordon Barleycorn, but I can’t really tell you what it’s about. I can’t tell you the trajectory of the series; I can’t say it’s promise of a second issue comes with any story reason to pursue that second issue. But I feel like this is the kind of series that maybe doesn’t exist anymore, and even if its combination of influences hasn’t produced something with, as of yet, a truly strong identity, I appreciate the kind of low-key worldbuilding co-writers Colin McHugh (also on art duties) and Duncan Sligh are aiming for, and I’d say if its art style appeals, and its 80s indie book style of wayward storytelling is something found in books in your longboxes… its worth supporting.

Gordon is a flunky troubadour, spending his time making love to groupies and playing in low-rent bands while he waits for inspiration. Debt collectors catch up to him, encouraging a get-some-cash plan at putting on a puppet show, or maybe a rock show, or maybe the money doesn’t matter anymore, I dunno man.

While drugs don’t directly play a huge part in this – this is a druggy comic. The stylistic art and vibes are definitely reminiscent of Fabulous Furry Freek Bros., but then Gordon has six fingers, rides a gigantic turtle, his manager – any many denizens of this universe – have blue skin and three nostrils, and puppet shows are a legit thing that people do for money. The backgrounds and details are both incredibly detailed but also flat, and oddities dot the sky and land – with the pastel color palette, it’s like a less obsessed Dave Cooper or Jim Woodring channeled through very early Boo Cook. There’s the basic premise I’ve outlined above, but the dialogue that gets us there is loosey-goosey, and there aren’t exactly stakes in the way it’s told; though bedecked in psychedelic visions, neither is it a mind trip, though – both for better and worse: it’s cool that the book doesn’t try to draw attention to all this nonsense, but it also means it doesn’t have much impact. In other words, McHugh and Sligh may have had something to say, or may have wanted to make something completely outlandish – there are some select laugh-out-loud snippets of dialogue – but it’s like they couldn’t commit to any of those modalities.

That, for me, is the reminder of the 80s / early 90s underground, when indie books and anthologies were coming out of the woodwork with eager artists with ideas, but maybe not the skill to format that correctly for storytelling, and so we’d get these oddball hit and miss tales that were neither coming or going… just existing.

Gordon Barleycorn exists in that space.

Is it good? It’s not bad, definitely not, but… it’s something I haven’t seen in a while, and a type of freeform creativity I want to encourage. Because out of those 80s / 90s offerings we got some serious gems, and McHugh and Sligh’s work, though not there yet, has that potential.