Reading an autobiographical work is always a bit uncomfortable, as we are getting an incredibly intimate look at the life of a creator. While “101 Artist to Listen to Before You Die” (from Nobrow Books) isn’t exactly soul-searching in the way that many books are, there is something about the text that still feels revealing and, in a way, uncomfortable. However, that is part of what makes this book a special read, and one that resonates greatly with me.
Written and Illustrated by Ricardo Cavolo
A personal journey filled with hilarious anecdotes through the history of music, at the hand of one of Spain’s most internationally renowned illustrators.
A graphic novel in the form of Ricardo Cavolo’s personal diary, which follows the story of music through 101 essential artists; from Bach to Radiohead, to Amy Winehouse, Nirvana and Daft Punk. With over 100 uniquely colourful illustrations and handwritten text, lists, notes and personal anecdotes.
The great interests in my life and music and comics, in that order most days. And so, Cavolo’s book is something that perfectly sits into my pop culture wheelhouse. In “101 Artist to Listen to Before You Die,” Cavolo uses chronology to tell the story of his musical listening. He doesn’t, as I might have, started at the beginning of his personal listening life, but rather begins with J.S. Bach and moves forward to the present day. The structure of the book is just about the only part of the book that feels impersonal; because we don’t necessarily see what connects Bach to Dolly Pardon or Rage Against the Machine, it feels, in some ways, like a text book of ‘music you should like because it is “important” music.’
But then, he has an installment on Kriss Kross, and you realize that this isn’t just any music book.
The book’s format is quite simple – for each artist, he designs a title that resembles their logo/title dress on their records – here is his title for Ty Segall:
Then, he writes a page or so about both the music itself, and his relationship to it. These fluctuate between extremely personal remembrances, dealing with family, adolescence, and school, and sometimes it is far more educational than autobiographical. Personally, I prefer when the text relates more to Cavolo’s life, both because I can see myself in the experiences, but also because I feel it makes the music seem more appealing. This book gave me a list of bands that I had previously written off that I want to go back and check out, due to the emphatic nature of Cavolo’s write up.
At the bottom of each wrap up, Cavolo draws a representation of his reaction to the music – sometimes it shows him personally in the images, sometimes a more abstract representation. Below is the illustration for the piece on blues legend Son House:
Opposite of that page is a portrait of the artists, all of which follow a similar model: person in the foreground, background made up of various items, some from the artists’ past/symbolism, others more random, some from the scene/era that the artist comes from. Below is a close up on the portrait of Bob Dylan, which features a number of the distinguishing features of his portraits: red nose (and hands/cheeks/ears), some extra eyes floating around, and each cheek being adorned with a symbol of some kind.
Many of the facial symbols are easy enough to see the meaning of – Dylan having a paper full of lyrics on it, for instance. Others are a little more curious, and they don’t appear to have any real classification. What I mean by that, is that I tried to catalog certain symbols (lightning bolt, fire, etc) and see if they corresponded to others in the book – like, did all bass players have one symbol? It appears to be less organized than that, and more from the gut – Cavolo just gives each person symbols that feel true to who they are as musicians.
Part of what is so refreshing about the book is that Cavolo isn’t trying to do the most accurate portrait of each artist; these seem, to me, to be how he views each band. The people who really inspire him – like Johnny Cash – get such incredible care put into their portraits, that they feel truly alive and real. Cavolo is very inspired by folk art, and that is abundantly clear in his work here. The portraits have a Native American feel to them (despite Cavolo being Spanish by birth, and residing in the UK), while also borrowing elements from people like his beloved Daniel Johnston.
Overall, the book reflects an inescapable love of music: something the flows within him (and, to paraphrase a subject in the book, without him as well), and informs all that he does. Throughout the book, there are artist that you’re certain to nod in agreement with, as well as those that you’re shaking your head at, too. The best part of the book, and this can be attributed to the outsider art that Cavolo loves, is that there is no shame in any of this. He likes this music, hopes you do too, but loses no sleep if you don’t. If you don’t want to jam out to the Sonics, that’s fine – he’ll be in his studio, making incredible art, with a soundtrack of his choosing. If this book does its job, it will inspire you to do the same.
