Terminal Punks #1: The Fear, The Fear, The Fear

Terminal Punks tells a story about dreams, fears, anxieties and the (im)posibilities that surround the system we live in. It works with contrasts, putting out a cartoonish, joyful and colorful art facing some horrid monstrosities (and I’m not referring to its dangerous animalistic creatures). It works in the kind of dialogue and signaling that will connect with anyone (even slightly) revolutionary, punk, either interested in criticism of capitalism or in watching an adorable group of friends go through a terror blast.

Not gonna lie, there’s a lot of connection between this book and me (like the fact that it has an associated playlist and Titus Andronicus is on it), and the book itself lives in a place that is gonna be pretty relatable for a certain branch of readers. It plays on the dream of breaking in with your punk band and facing the sordid reality of capitalism by yourselves. And it plays on a pretty risky but poignant humour that goes within despising establishment, all the while further expressing itself within this context by having a first-voice narrator with anxiety for a monsters’ tale. Plus, Erman’s depiction of said anxiety is as perfect as the songs that it feeds from and the expressive, forever impactful, raw artstyle of Shelby Criswell.

Their art is rich in influences, references and outcome, as it mixes the bloody B-movie feel with a newspaper strip panel style and a breeze of punk zine resemblance. It is always simple but captivating, and it enriches itself with striking color. Some background colors might be too saturated, as if volume was causing visual feedback in the scenes, but it finally synchronizes well with pastel panels as the rest interlude. To top off one of the most expressive artworks I have seen in this punk vein, the lettering and its use of things like bold font or onomatopoeias covering and surpassing the panels is delightful.