The TRIP CITY Interviews : Origin Stories


My origin story as a journalist is tied up in the history of TRIP CITY’s first year of digital life. I had done plenty of writing in my life, but there were two genres of writing I had completely avoided, pretty much on purpose: autobiography and journalism. I had learned to avoid autobiography laced into fiction or poetry mostly from watching friends get slapped across the face by angry partners at readings, or from writhing around thinking “TMI” if there were no altercations to break the tedium at the same readings. My antipathy toward journalism went back further to high school when I was forced into editing the school newspaper for a semester by pleading teachers and admin. It had started badly with a guilt trip because there was no one else willing to do the job, and it only got worse as I was forced to print retraction after retraction for being too candid in what I considered bare bones and dry as dust, yawningly boring accounts of school events. One rather imposing teacher even blocked the hallway and slammed her fist into a locker to make her point. I had gotten into the middle of some kind of teacher-world rivalry without realizing. Journalism was a bad word after that, and I’ll confess my attitude was snobbish. I didn’t see any room for creativity in that prison-like atmosphere.

There was a significant blip on the radar in my 20′s when I picked up a book by Hunter S. Thompson. It was actually a volume of his diaries and I started with that before reading whatever of his work I could get my hands on. I had never even heard of New Journalism. It was as if I had lived in a world without the concept. But I came to the conclusion, misguidedly, that it probably wasn’t possible to write like that anymore, since every piece of journalism I saw was as bland as I expected it to be. Thompson lurked somewhere in the dusty corners of my brain, just a minor doubt, for another decade.


I heard about this event in Brooklyn in March 2012, a book launch with some readings, and decided to go since it involved my more recent love, comics. As soon as the thing started, I pulled out a notebook and started taking down notes, thinking I might do a book review, because I was becoming more and more astonished by what was playing out in front of me. The launch for LEAPING TALL BUILDINGS by Christopher Irving and Seth Kushner actually began with some live comics performances by TRIP CITY folks and friends, and by the time Seth Kushner started talking about the ground-breaking photo essay book, I was mezmerized and strangely uncomfortable. There was something about presenting all this as a live event that was getting to me. It’s strange when you can point to one moment in your life and identify a turning point that brought about a lot of personal change, even stranger when you can blame someone else for it. Dean Haspiel saw me taking notes and asked if I was a journalist. When I said, “no”, I was probably a little horrified. But he asked if I would write up the event for TRIP CITY. That I said yes to. Journalism was bland to me, but TRIP CITY, I could already see, was not. It was something remarkable I wanted to know more about.

Writing that article was pretty excruciating. I had no idea what I was doing since it didn’t fit any formal conventions I was used to. The challenge of capturing a live event in a way that made sense, and hopefully made people feel that they had been there made me feel like stopping before I even started. I came to the conclusion around 4 in the morning that the only way to do it was to include myself. Then I remembered Hunter Thompson and that old question in my mind. After that, the article wrote itself. That’s certainly not the end of the story, far from it, but that was the beginning of writing journalistically for me.

When TRIP CITY turned one year old, it was an honor to try to pry the literary arts salon’s own origin story out of the four founders and to look ahead toward the site’s future and goals. TRIP CITY breaks paradigms and brings the literary, visual, and aural arts together in new and unique combinations that you’d be very hard pressed to find anywhere else. That confluence brought me in, and changed my artistic direction pretty profoundly. I wanted to know how that happened, and for the most part, I got my answers.


For my initial essay about what TRIP CITY is and does from my perspective, check out “The Shock of the New“, which I wrote in November 2012 for The Beat.

In my interview with co-curators Jeffrey Burandt and Chris Miskiewicz, you can read about their take on digital multi-media here.

For my interview with co-curator Dean Haspiel, you can hear him talk “Around the Digital Campfire“.

For my interview with co-curator Seth Kushner, you can hear all about his “Male Uterus“, here.

I owe these guys a profound debt of thanks for the ways they altered my trajectory in life, even if they had no idea they were doing so at the time. It’s been a phenomenal year for TRIP CITY and I couldn’t be prouder of this one year old prodigy and all its diverse and dynamic contributors. Congrats!

At the Crossroads of Music and Comics with Jeffrey Burandt/Jef UK, Part II: “The Irony of Performance”

Jeffrey Burandt took two hours out of a sultry evening at the end of August to talk shop with me in Bryant Park, and while we roughly pursued the chronology of his life and artistic endeavors, themes kept popping up that were difficult to put down. They were the zombie concepts that drive Burandt forward, challenging him to push the boundaries of standard artistic output. Yes, I said “standard”. On a day when you’re feeling generous, you admit that everything that artists produce is original and unique because no one could ever do the same thing the same way twice, but in a cynical mode you do realize, maybe when reaching for a CD on a shelf in a shop, that things can get a little samey even among the talented. The only way to assure yourself that you can avoid that form of stultification in music, or in comics, is to keep redefining those boundaries and surprising yourself as well as your audience.

To start off with, Burandt acknowledges that his alter ego and stage name Jef UK is a “fictional character” who does not savor the “careful thoughtful things” that Burandt, as a writer, comes up with. Jef UK is all about the internet and the ways in which it renders the whole world “Beta”. In a world with “no such thing as a final iteration”, Jef UK can splash his R-rated comics onto screens, then later choose to revise, and reframe them as sequential narratives that may eventually see a more formal print format. I ask Burandt for some examples of changes he’s been persuaded to make and he whispers a few that I recognize from the Americans UK comics up on TRIP CITY, a multi-media digital arts salon. We consider a particular ending and whether he should change it before the print version (names have been concealed for the protection of innocent comix). Burandt’s comics for TRIP CITY share a common feature in their short-story format, one which Burandt feels is capable of “suggesting a really big world” while avoiding tying down the narrative to a single chronological thread.

The “Beta” aspects of digital comics for Burandt tie into his appreciation for both the unique qualities of demo recordings and the hammered down and polished features of albums when the songs have been been played “hundreds of times”. Demo recordings have haunting qualities and unique surprises that create a more visceral experience for the reader the way a freshly pressed digital comic might. Burandt’s a fan of Beck, Bjork, and Radiohead, and I can see a consistency linking his philosophy and tastes. These are all bands who privilege the texture of live playing and performance, even in their recorded albums, and make a point of creating new avenues for their compositions in concert gigs.

[photo by Walker Esner]

From Burandt’s descriptions of more mainstream print comics projects he’s worked on, it is clear that he, like most comics creators working today, finds the industry more than a little maddening. A particular frustration is the time-frame involved. A graphic novel, he explained, may be picked up, and a certain amount of advance money paid, but it could be years before the book sees print, if ever. In a climate where you have to “get published to get published”, this elaborate waiting game isn’t helpful. Self-publication and digital media, just like live performance and demos, are a way to put art into the community in a more immediate way.

[Portrait of Jef UK by Seth Kushner]

But, in the case of music, if you are going to build a band’s reputation largely on performances rather than big record label albums, how do you do that? Burandt’s solution is to recognize what he calls the “irony of performance”. The “blending of fiction and reality” that he previously discussed with me in terms of founding his fiction-based real band Americans UK becomes even more significant when you acknowledge Burandt’s premise, that “at the heart of all art performance is irony”. Burandt defines artistic irony as something “projecting itself as something it is not”, a form of duplication. For instance, a song about heartbreak being performed, is not necessarily the experience of heartbreak in itself. It may recall, recreate, or suggest that state, but forgetting the artificiality of the performance is part of the irony.

This all plays into Burandt’s use of stage “uniforms” as Jef UK, from black domino mask to capes and other comic-linked trappings. His dream band costume, he muses, would be for his band to turn up as 5 Spider-Men on stage. “How is that less gimmicky”, he asks, than the stuff hipsters wear to emulate each other?

If you assume the costume, and take on the gimmick, you’re only one step away from bringing comics to the stage, it seems. Maybe that’s the real crossroads of music and comics for Burandt: performance. Americans UK perform “Sons of Ba’al” to the stark black and white clear-line style of an accompanying comic projection. The images the comic contains draws on layouts that veer between traditional comics panels, the large panels typical of digital comics, and the experimental distribution of text you often see in CD lyric pamphlets or covers.

The fantastic images of demon-human characters ties in with plenty of comic traditions while the black and white palette carries an indie comics association. The comic was posted on TRIP CITY to be accompanied by the musical track, but also includes meta material such as sketches from the artist, Ham Gravy, aka Michael Lapinski , and commentary about the comics art from Burandt.

Check it out and see what you experience. Maybe making the transition into total sensory overload is just a matter of taking the plunge.

Burandt and Americans UK may be making bigger waves than they think, since I’ve heard a couple of other young musician/artists lately discussing the possibility of comics performance projection combined with a musical set. It’s not that it’s never been done before, since images in live performance have been around, pretty much since time immemorial, but the quality and originality of the art and music make a seismic difference to the audience’s experience. Jeffrey Burandt, aka Jef UK is a man with a seemingly endless well of ideas about the overlap and crossing points between the arts in their various forms. Thanks for the chat, Jeffrey. I hope everyone gets a chance to see and hear Americans UK push the aural/visual envelope again soon.

At the Crossroads of Music and Comics with Jeffrey Burandt/Jef UK: Part I

In my experience, the two art forms most difficult to describe in conversation or discussion are music and comics. This is not because you can’t find words to use, but because you end up piling adjective upon adjective, adverb upon adverb, and even being forced into new hyphenated words groups. That can be a very intriguing thing, but it can also make you steer clear of the challenge. In a way, I dread the moment, when making a rare visit to see one of my musician brothers, they ask me, pointedly, what I think of a new album by a favorite band of ours. Usually, we’re driving between one point and another, we only have a few minutes to get into it, and I just about break into a cold sweat. I focus and take a breath. It’s like shooting in the dark to get my message across.

One phenomenon that takes extra verbal space is the “I hate this new album” reaction when the discordant strife of a new style emerging smites your ears from the supposed safety of a label you’ve followed for years. So now I start my answers with disposable honesty: “Of course, I hated it at first, but…”. Are comics any different? When I pick up new a work by a favorite comics writer or artist, I anxiously scan for some degree of recognition. Can I still tell it’s theirs? Have they compromised in some way? Will this experience somehow ruin my past adoration? I’m waiting for that sense of being met at the station by a friend in a strange country, usually late at night to boot.

As with music, I find it very difficult to explain in words what my reactions to the new comic work are, but find it a little less paralyzing to do so after some time has passed. With comics, you are never really sure what you saw or did not see during the first reading experience, or even what you heard as your mind fills in the spaces between the panels with its own brand of narrative. The mysterious jumps it makes to create an organic whole personalize the story to what is essentially a narrative of your own creation. Music contains its own uncertainties in received performance, particularly live performance. The problem highlights the complexity of both mediums. Science tells us that all sensory perception is incredibly complex, and looking into human reactions to art forms is a like unwinding DNA, but I’ll throw in my two cents with music and comics for intricacy because they specifically target a derangement of the senses.

[Jef UK, photo by Seth Kushner]

So imagine my reaction to sitting down with a person who works in both mediums and has the alarming temerity to marry the two and expect the audience to walk away with both cranial lobes intact. I wonder if he realizes that he’s essentially going after their skulls with an ice-pick, or more specifically, targeting their eyes and their ears as well as their sense of spatial relationship. That’s the kind of derangement I’m talking about.

Jeffrey Burandt, sometime of Austin, Texas, now Brooklyn, New York, lived parallel artistic lives for quite some time before recognizing the potential for experiment. Growing up, he read comics as his first form of literature, and so absorbed visual literacy as par for the course. Superheroes and adventure stories were his mental diet, but by high school, performing music took up a lot of his time and a simple jam session on a Friday night is still “one of [his] favorite things” in life.

Founding the band Americans UK in Austin in one of those strangely literary moments that life can throw at you, arose from a fictional band in a sci-fi story Burandt was working on. It quickly became his reality, complete with a sense of the attitude and style such a band would espouse. The band lived and died in Austin and has since lived, died, and risen again in Brooklyn. It’s a creature of many lives, but it just keeps coming back, each iteration more strangely evolved than the last.

During one of the “death” periods, it occurred to Burandt to turn his creative writing degree from Brooklyn College, the pursuit of which brought him to this Northern Babylon, toward comics. The medium had obsessed him his whole life, and he had always been a big follower of Marvel’s output, from Brian Bendis’ work on the Ultimate Universe to Matt Fraction’s currently running Cassanova. Grant Morrison’s DC and Vertigo work had also turned his head, particularly The Invisibles. Why not write comics? The penny hadn’t yet really dropped for him, but he was rapidly approaching a crossroads. In the hiatus between band resurrections, which he describes as a “vacuum of making music”, he found himself writing a comic about the fictional band that had first led to it’s real-world avatar’s creation. It began almost innocently when he turned his real-world drummer JTR3 into a robot cyborg since he had always been quite the “machine”. The germ of a story developed. A cyborg heart might need recharging. Inscrutable technology might be from the future. Time-travel broke loose as a guiding plot-device. Throw in a villain, a noir-ish murder mystery in time, and voila, the real-world defunct band returned to its fictional roots.

That’s when all hell broke loose, artistically speaking. You see, Burandt, a true student of literature, has always believed in the “layers” inherent in storytelling, and had a particular penchant for the fake autobiography format. Ideas from his graduate degree’s sci-fi novel project, as well as from his own life fed into the comic, and thus filtered, emerged again into his life. Americans UK was born again in tandem with the comic that told its fictional history, and his own. Burandt had stumbled into an intersection between the major artistic forces in his life and chose to explore them rather than heading for the hills into safer territory. Burandt began to draft stand-alone short comic scripts to fit within a larger arc with a graphic novel as the goal, and worked with a number of collaborating artists to bring these episodes to life.

Meanwhile, he expanded into a wider sphere of comics writing, including a graphic novel project with Oni Press, Odd Schnozz and the Odd Squad, with a 2013 release date. Performances of the resurrected band Americans UK, Burandt’s comics work, and some freelance writing for a magazine brought him into contact with Brooklyn’s Dean Haspiel in the early days of planning the multi-media online arts salon Trip City. Haspiel, multi-faceted comics artist, writer, and teacher, brought Burandt in as a music and comics contributor to the digital site. Short comics featuring the characters Americans UK with a rotation of talented artists contributing, appear on Trip City, often with an interactive musical soundtrack to emphasize the unusual junctures in the band/comics relationship.

But it’s also the live performances you have to watch out for. I was fortunate enough to attend one of Trip City’s live salon events where I first heard Americans UK perform, and witnessed the audio-visual interaction between the luminous, projected comics, and the musical sound-track the band provided. One of their newest songs at the time, “Sons of Ba’al”, was particularly effective in rattling the senses through the use of stark black and white images, combined with written language, while the band played a track resonant enough to illicit phone calls from the police. It was quite a trip for the audience. I was struck by the vast potential of the unusual combination I was witnessing, on a night already strong in performance comics presented by several Trip City contributors. In any concert, perspective is a strong influence on later memory. What did you really hear, or think you heard? How much of that was informed by your knowledge of previous albums, attending prior performances, or your proximity to the stage? In short, you create the performance as much as the guy, in this case, in the domino mask. And by the way, you are going to read comics at the same time, and provide a whole other layer of instantaneous collaboration. Americans UK were certainly the first fictionally real band I had ever heard perform surrounded by the illuminated panels of their own fictional universe.

[Trip City Live Salon at Fornino's, Park Slope, Brooklyn]

I jumped at the chance to sit down with Jeffrey Burandt a couple of months later and hear his story, and try to figure out how he ended up in the jaws of this unique experiment. The mental leap necessary to bring the two mediums of comics and rock music together seemed to me to be like taking the Nemean Lion in one hand and the Hydra in the other, and though Burandt was not oblivious to the unusual aspects of his labors, sitting in Bryant Park on a humid August evening, he seemed to have reached a point where he could harness the unusual beasts of both comics and rock and find their point of mutual cooperation.

We discussed the state of comics industry, the trials of self-publication, his musical tastes, and the past, present, and future of the band and the comics: Americans UK. First thing first, I indulge my curiosity and ask him about his double nomenclature, a not-so-secret identity, featuring as both Jeffrey  Burandt and as Jef UK in the worlds of literature and music. He admits it’s complicated as friends and fans aren’t sure what to call him when, but Burandt still perceives an important distinction.

Jef UK is his “comics name” used on message boards, and in the promotion of the Americans UK comic. For his formal literary work, either as a prose novelist or as a graphic novel writer, he uses his full name, Jeffrey Burandt. I comment at this point that Stan Lee found himself in a similar situation, setting aside the more literary Stanley Lieber in readiness for his great American novel, and using his first name, Stanley, as Stan-ley, written Stan Lee, to distinguish his comics career. In Burandt’s case, however, Jef UK is also a fictionalized version of himself, making the situation more “layered”. The ambiguity is something that Burandt associates with digital self-publishing, too, where everything is essentially “beta” and can be revised. Jef UK is an author name for the “rated R stuff” that might go up online, whereas Jeffrey Burandt has predominately produced “all ages” comics work. The two could easily cross or overlap, but haven’t yet forced a decision the way that Stan Lee felt his epic comics career did, finally formally choosing the new form as his legal name.

After a few seconds of talking to Burandt, I was already wondering if two hours will be enough time to explore so many diverse ideas. We started off talking about music, and the “hate it” phenomenon. “When you hear something new, you need time for new neural pathways to develop” he explains with a serious expression, as if it’s the most important truth in the world. Maybe it is. Maybe it’s the fading daylight, the cars streaming by the park, and the dream-like atmosphere as the streetlights come on, but I begin to get the impression that this intersection between comics and music is, in fact, a “really big world” opening up to exploration.

[Stay tuned for Part II of the interview, featuring the state of the comics industry, the irony of performance, and an up-close look/listen at Americans UK’s Sons of Ba’al]

Also check out this recent podcast with Jef UK.