The last Phonogram, and I know they said that before but this time it feels like it. And it becomes clear that all along, as much as it was about music as magic, it's been a series about coming to terms with your past - Britannia in the first volume, curse songs et al in the second, and now Emily Aster, like Kohl before her, facing up to the consequences when the deal she made for power years back goes sour (and when I say "like Kohl, facing up" - of course that means she tries running away and hiding first. Wouldn't you?). The characters are all noticeably older, in the way you don't necessarily expect to happen to people who look like McKelvie-drawn characters look; Aster's face is harder, Kohl's hair is finally thinning. Much of the action takes place behind the screen, in brilliant pastiches of classic music videos, while Aster's other half wreaks havoc on the life from which she was exiled, but we also get to see what's become of the rest of the phonomancers; the older generation stepping aside, the new kids stepping up. It's that moment of alienation we've all had looking at the bright young things, half in envy and half in gratitude we're past that now, recast as occult drama because that tells more of the emotional truth of it. Even ending with a quote from Florence and her sodding Machine can't defuse the bittersweet tang of it.
(That's the ending of the main story, and hence the collection. Inevitably, given the Curse of Phonogram, the last song which powers the last B-side back-up story, right through to the last page on the inside cover of the final issue, is Bowie. Obviously this was all done, printed and so forth before the news came in; isn't that just perfect? Because was there ever a pop star who illustrated the whole conceit of Phonogram better than him, a more blatant act of phonomancy than Blackstar? A time of endings, harmonised perfectly)