Been Busy: The Art & Graphic Design of Mike Davis
TheeeCasualMale
2,564 Posts
Hi Strutters - I know it's been a while since I've posted here, but thought some of you would want to check out a new book I've been working on. It's a collection of my graphic design and illustration work spanning the last 13+ years of my career. This 100+ page full color, hardcover book includes some of my favorite concert posters, logos, and raer sketches, plus lots of work I've created for members of the Soulstrut community - guys like Cosmo Baker and DJ Ayres, Phill Most Chill The Soulman, DJ Morse Code, Danno from Waxing Deep, plus Raj Mahal himself.
You can preorder a copy through Kickstarter. There are several different reward packages available.
Thanks gang!
Comments
In a low-key but undeniable way, one of those people, to paraphrase James Murphy, without whom my whole situation doesn't exist.
Not only were Mike's music and mixes and designs inspiring at a pivotal moment, boring deep into the chunky and fundamental UB&B-type shit and forcing it, zombie-ant-like, into new and heedless directions, precisely at a time when I was trying to figure out how to execute the mental and creative equivalent of same, but he and his charming man Doug did a Chicago show that is probably the only reason I know anybody here (no Litterthugz show in two-thousand-whatever means I don't meet Dave or Meaty, which means I don't go to Danny's, which means I don't meet Dante, Zilla, or Clubbup, which means "I would still have sixty dollars," and on and on and on).
More to the point, dude gave me one of my seminal writing assignments, which emboldened me and really helped put the slither in my zither. So, you know, any TL/DR foam fingers of blame can be pointed toward Minneapolis, Land of 10,000 Lakes/Breaks/Super-frakes.
Just before I saw Mike's announcement, I was drinking ice water out of a Charley Harper glass that was all the wrong size and structure (you know, one of those jernts where, like, it's too big to fill with straight drank, but it's thin-walled enough that adding ice cubes makes it feel like the whole shit's gonna splinter in your hand and you're gonna end up like dude in the workplace-safety film, drinking room-temperature Hudy and dialing the PACE-bus info line on Grandma's rotary phone with your last functioning finger), and a fucking spider fell in it. I fished lil' homie out with the corner of a promotional postcard that came bundled with some PPU release that sounded a lot better online, set him on the back deck to shake it off like your girl T-Swizzy, and chucked the remaining ice water over the back railing into my neighbor's yard because they home-school and play sports and I don't give a fuck. When I came back inside, "Rock Creek Park" was playing on the dusties station.
At the intersection of all that, seeing Mike's shit materialize seemed a karmic inevitability.
Copped. Of course.
You are a champion. Thank you!