By T.W. Worn — In 1996, Mojo Records released one of the most quintessential albums of my lifetime; Turn the Radio Off  by Reel Big Fish. The Ska Punk album that defined a generation as well as set the tone for 3rd and post-3rd wave ska for the next 20 years. The opening track, Sell Out, is a tale about a fast food worker turned music star but slowly starts to realize they didn't get signed to a label to be artists. They got bagged and tagged by a record label to sell an MTV style package of stardom. I bring up this album for two reasons. The first, ska punk is an underrated genre, and anyone who has found themselves in the pit skanking to the chucking rhythms and dotting horns agrees. The second is to show you the mind frame I tend to find myself in. Over the top fun and silly antics with a hint of modern cynicism, but at the end of the day Reel Big Fish is genuine and heartfelt. If Camus had ever learned how to play the trombone, he would be in a ska band. Unfortunately for me, Concrete Jungle #1 seems to be more cynical than it is silly, but that DOES NOT mean it isn't good, it just isn't for me. Something just doesn't click yet and that's ok. For all we know, by the end of the 4 issue run I could easily have fallen in love with this series, because there are a lot of things I do enjoy. 

Sheldon Allen (Spider-Man Unlimited, Crucified) knows how to write a grisled cop story, and elevates it by adding robots, aliens, 4-boobed sex workers (take that Total Recall, your boob highscore has just been beaten) and telepaths. The issue is packed to the brim with cop story tropes, and while they feel to be more parody than "using ol' reliable," I still found myself wishing for just a little bit more, especially since the first half of the issue started out so strong. While the plot lays some interesting avenues to explore, I am unsure if I want to follow the protagonist down them. The main character, Detective Annie Brunson, is as brash and in your face as the opening of the comic, and is not someone I would want to meet in person. Opinionated and unapologetic. She does not care about anyone's feelings, and being a fan of ska, makes it hard for me to resonate with her. But once again, that does not mean she isn't well written. I honestly believe that this comic is good, it just isn't for someone like me.

And even though I might not be the target audience for the story, I still absolutely loved the tactile side of everything. The art and letting is beautiful. Allen himself even spoke about how the art is what allows this comic to triumph. The world depicted in this comic is full of all kinds of strange life. Karl Mostert (Dceased: Unkillables, The Man Who F#%&ed Up Time) knows how to capture the life and energy of a big city. From the buildings to the street layout to the pedestrians, Mostert is able to find that untangle, undesirable something that makes a city feel alive, and it's lifted by the colors of Warnia Sahadewa (Wayfinder, Dry Foot,) giving it that sickly haze every city-slicker knows and breathes. Matt Bowers (MEMPHIS, The High Priest of Rhythmic Noise) has easily become my favorite for lettering. I don't know how to describe it without sounding like I am giving the business card monolog from AMERICAN PSYCHO, but there is something there I have never seen before and could easily recommend this comic for the lettering alone. 

OVERALL: Concrete Jungle is in your face and unapologetic, brought to life by some of the best art and lettering I have read this year. If you have the stomach for a bizarre, loose cannon cop on the edge butting heads with their rookie partner, then I'd say this story is for you. 6/10

REVIEW - Concrete Jungle #1

Concrete Jungle #1
Writer: Sheldon Allen
Artist: Karl Mostert
Colorist: Warnia Sahadewa
Letterer: Matt Bowers
Publisher: Scout Comics
Price: $3.99
When a rogue telepath begins hijacking unsuspecting minds and bodies to commit vicious crimes, crooked Detective Annie Brunson is charged with cracking the case with her new straight laced telepathic partner, Faith Jones. Set among a backdrop of urban decay, exotic aliens, robots, and genetic mutations, Concrete Jungle is a science fiction police tale like no other, vividly brought to life by writer Sheldon Allen, burgeoning superstar artist Karl Mostert, letterer Matt Bowers, and colorist Warnia Sahadewa.

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I'm T.W. Worn and the portals shall soon be open.