The creators of the award-winning THE WICKED + THE DIVINE return to their founding critical smash, PHONOGRAM with THE IMMATERIAL GIRL.
In a world where music is magic, phonomancer Emily Aster sold half her personality for power. Now, after a decade of brittle perfection, the deal starts to go bad as the girl behind the screen comes looking for revenge. You'll never look at Take On Me's video the same ever again.
The last volume of Phonogram and probably the best. Emily's sacrifice of half her personality for power is coming back to haunt her. Jamie McKelvie makes fantastic use of one of the greatest videos ever made in a-ha's "Take on Me". The art is truly sublime as Emily and Claire battle it out for control of their body. The latter half of the book deals with that time in your life as your friends start to grow up, moving away for jobs or starting to settle down. As you lose a little something but gain other things as well.
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)
I think this is a fittingly lovely and bittersweet end to this series. While the first two volumes were a bit style over substance, they still worked and roped in this very snarky love of music. This volume digs a bit deeper past the surface.
It explores the power of music and lifestyle as influences on ourselves, but also how we use all of these pop culture trends as a type of distraction. Beyond the outer shell, there's a real person in there. And sometimes we don't like the person we are. It's a difficult and uncomfortable situation to confront that fact. It's a step even further to try and do something about it.
In its (unfortunately too short) three volume run, Phonogram gradually becomes more accessible and ambitious. The Immaterial Girl is yet another perfect book talking about things no one else either cares about or has the ability to appropriately demonstrate. I don’t think anyone else is going to try either, so I’m going to miss this series a lot.
Emily Aster, the coven leader of a group of London Phonomancers, has made a deal some 9 years ago with the King Behind the Screen (a static blob shaped as Thriller-era Michael Jackson): she will give him half herself, presumably the half she does not want. But after some time Emily’s “bad” half, Claire, wants out and swaps the Emily we know “Behind the Screen,” a world which features characters and settings from iconic music videos that try to kill her. Meanwhile Claire, a self-destructive force, decides to dismantle the coven. Emily struggles to get out, David Kohl (from volume one) tries to find meaning beyond his fame for “killing” Britpop. Eventually, their personal quests connect and bring them to an inevitable conclusion for both them and the Phonogram story.
For Americans, this is the book that will make the most sense. You will remember almost every music reference said or seen. Mostly seen, as the major symbolism comes from music videos. Emily, once Behind the Screen, goes through videos which include A-ha’s Take on Me,Thriller and Bonnie Tyler’sTotal Eclipse of the Heart. As a child, Emily’s introduction to music was visual. A typical Gen-Xer, she watched MTV and learned to love music through those innovative videos. She loved Blondie’s Parallel Lines, hanging the album cover on her wall, got her angst out thanks to Hole’s Live Through This and was shook by Lauryn Hill’s Doo-Wop (That Thing). As the time comes to split herself in half, she forms a grimmerie off all these things to give up while watching Madonna’s Material Girl on repeat. That video, and all the things listed, helped her become who she is, and she quickly discards it all as “bad,” hoping to refine her musical tastes for better magic and a better self-image.
In that respect, the book is about duality. How we are not all of one thing. We are two, and usually more, contradictory ideas mixed. In other words, a neurotic mess. For Emily, she does not see things that way. Things must either be good or bad. While being chased in Total Eclipse of the Heart, Emily comments on how the song is dreck, even though she loves it: “This video always scared me. It tried to match the songs sheer ludicrous, glorious pretension.” However, the video still means a lot to her. Music videos are basically a personification of that duality argument. Take on Me is an iconic video. It looks amazing. But I’d rather never hear that song again. Dire Strait’s Money for Nothing (a video they briefly reference) is a song that I like, despite all the issues I have with the lyrics, but that video is too dated for me to take seriously. Emily believes we must separate those things. You must prefer one to the other. That is the problem with MTV and music videos. While they became their own artform, they challenged the very music that inspired them. It made people choose between audio and visuals, or in some cases forget that the song was part of the experience. When I say Thriller, I’m not thinking of the song. I’m thinkin of that album cover. That video. Those werewolves straight out of West Side Story. The song gets pushed aside for the John Landis visuals. Maybe the only exception is Peter Gabriel’s Sledgehammer. That song still works. That video still amazes me. And I don’t even mind that it’s about a penis.
In her Faustian bargain, there’s also the idea that liking something from your youth cannot be enjoyed when you’re an adult. Emily as a child practically hates her father for mentioning Blondie to her: “It’s my birthday. Don’t you bloody ruin it.” Liking it now just seems corny, and it ruins the image she would like to cultivate. Because her father may have owned Parallel Lines, she believes she has to give it up for the sake of her coven. For a brief, stupid time, I was embarrassed for liking Motown and ‘60’s music. My parents raised me on it, but because they liked it, I had to nope the fuck out of it. But that music shaped me. It informed my current tastes. Everything from that era would play inside my memory and form spiderwebs toward more modern or contemporary bands and genres that I would find on my own. The Doors (proto-punk), The Temptations (proto-hip hop), Bob Dylan (proto-hipster bullshit). Could I ever remove those things from my life, like Emily does, and still be me?
For Emily and David, they would like not to be defined by their past. The problem with that is we all are, to an extent. We view people and their pasts as we see them in the present. No image, or idea of our former selves ever stays the same. It always changes, based on who we are in a given moment. A good example is the song & video this book is referencing. Madonna's Material Girl is forever linked to her, but she has a fraught relationship with it, and has said that if she knew people would identify her so strongly with that Material Girl image, she would have told Nile Rodgers, “No, thank you!” and recorded something else. She would like nothing more than to forget it, but she can’t. Without Material Girl would we still get albums like Like a Prayer? Ray of Light? Confessions on a Dance Floor? Probably not in their current form. The book's moral is to come to terms with our duality. We are all the parts, and to accept them all helps us grow into better people. Told as a story about music videos and pop music tastes, the book attacks both arguments about our souls and our music without one misstep.
The art was spot on as usual. I expect nothing less from this team, and loved all the homages. I loved the closed caption-style text used when Behind the Screen. There was an entire issue about Lloyd (everyone’s favorite Dexy’s Midnight Runners fan) and Laura having a pretty aggressive relationship which was all an homage to Scott Pilgrim, which I’ve never read, but I liked it anyway. And the ending works as a good ending for the series. But still leaves the door open for more. Seriously, why stop this? I love WicDiv, but I can take its nihilism only in small doses. Phonogram gives me an endless sense of euphoria. It makes me want to run out and listen to music and fall in love with some new sound or artist that I never knew existed until that moment. No book will ever make me feel this way again. Maybe I have a flair for the dramatic, like Emily/Claire, but something tells me I’m right. Music is magic, and so is Phonogram. READ IT.
Some more quotes I liked. (I ended up buying The Complete Phonogram, and was able to spend more time analyzing the text. And I never buy books, so this is a historic moment):
"The record is entirely irrelevant. The video overpowers and overwrites it. It is magnificent. It is sublime. Yet simultaneously, it is corruption. It is annihilation."
"The problem with love...kept long enough, like everything else, it eventually turns sour."
"Romance will save you. For a while. As long as you believe its lies."
"I am nothing but the sum of my influences."
"You wanted to change the world. I just wanted to amuse myself. The difference between our plans and mine, mine succeeded."
"I want to live...but I can’t live running."
"The eye is the ultimate screen."
"You can fill empty things."
"It only needs to make sense to me---and even then, only enough sense to get me out of bed in the morning."
"Cocaine was my life. The coven was just my addiction."
"I’ve tried everything else. I may as well try changing."
The Immaterial Girl. This volume has a clearer conceit than the others, and it's kind of neat: woman gives up half her personality and realizes she's the half that's been given up. But it really doesn't go anywhere fast and eventually descends into the the abstract touchey-feeley nonsense that destroys a lot of stories that focus on magic. I loved the ending but it was a long time getting there [2+/5].
Phonogram has always been a comic about loving music which is horribly clear-eyed about the awful, ridiculous ways in which people who love music behave. Or behaved, since it turns out, with Volume 3, that Phonogram is also a comic about growing up, moving on, and risking or embracing irrelevance.
I'm close enough to the subject matter - having spent my own twenties and early thirties in a 'coven' next door to the one in The Immaterial Girl - that I find parts of this comic enormously resonant, funny and moving and other parts just horribly awkward. I love them both. As ever with Phonogram, there's a magic realist element going on - I think this is the volume where "music is magic" is most fully realised as an idea, a lovely balance between the hammered-home metaphors of Volume 1 and the more marginal conceit of Volume 2. The central story of Emily Aster's fight for survival in the world of the pop image is a grand opportunity for formal play and storytelling experiment, and outside it the metaphor fits into the everyday life of the characters more snugly. And it's those lives which end up being the centre of Phonogram. I'll miss them.
Not quite as good as the previous volume, "The Singles Club" -- you must read that one first for much of this to make sense, and I highly recommend reading "The Immaterial Girl" shortly afterwards, since it follows up so closely with the story of a main character from that volume.
Specifically, this volume focuses on the story of Emily Aster, who made a semi-Faustian bargain -- giving up half of herself -- to become the person she always wanted to be. May not seem like a good bargain, but when part of the deal is that you get to choose WHICH half you surrender, the line between the cost and the benefit start to blur.
It all goes wrong, eventually, and has repercussions throughout her group of fellow phonomancers. But was everyone ready to move on, anyway...?
Lots of music video references, interesting page design, and plot twists, with a sub-plot about the younger members of their social scene stepping to the fore -- in a Scott Pilgrim homage, no less! Might be a bit inaccessible to readers who don't get as many of the references, but in some ways, this was the most approachable and accessible volume for me -- just missing the awesomeness level of Volume 2 due to some genuine "what the hell" weirdness towards the end.
The Immaterial Girl is the last volume of Phonogram, a comic book about music being, literally, magic. It's also the best one, and probably the most personal for its writer, Kieron Gillen. It is about growing up and finding out that music may not be the most important thing in your life. It is about death. It is about obsession. It's about figuring out yourself and moving on. And it is absolutely great, if you ever felt the same way about music in your life. It is sad to realize that this is probably the last volume of the series. It is also completely understandable and natural. It is a great closure to an extremely weird and niche book. So farewell, Phonogram. It's no better to be safe than sorry.
The most infuriatingly up-its-own-ass (arse, apologies, guv) comic of all time keeps cranking out the hits. Might be that I don't understand the British-indie-dance-pop music scene, might be that I generally loathe fantasy, particularly when the rules make no sense, might be the uniformly poisonous characters, or maybe Jamie McKelvie's tidy artwork, which has occasional clever flourishes but overall the storytelling and personality of an instructional strip for operating a waffle iron, but this series makes me want to claw my own face off with its self-satisfied, oozing smugness. But people love it so who am I to judge? Continue to be fabulous and magical and nostalgic for all the worst music in the world, darlings. I'll be reading Gillen's Darth Vader comic again.
Not particularly clear, this volume is about the music industry in the last decade with a healthy dose of magic thrown in. Our main character, Emily, has surrendered half her personality to the Adversary. There's lots of references to 1980s music videos but it's all a bit too clever-clever for my taste.
I gave up on about two-thirds of the way through as I hoped that it would become clearer and less silly. Sorry but not for me.
Si bien phonogram 1 no me gustó porque se me hizo extremadamente confuso con los diálogos en inglés plagados de letras de canciones y referencias a bandas de Brit Pop que en mi vida había oído; y que nunca leí el segundo volumen, el tercer volumen me sorprende mucho y lo disfruté bastante. Primero, definitivamente el arte de Jamie Mckelvie está creado para ser coloreado por Matt Wilson. La diferencia entre el volumen 1 a blanco y negro y el volumen 3 a color es abismal. Lleno de matices, con colores muy interesantes y vivos que ayudan a dotar de un aura de misticismo a los hechizos que realizan los personajes, y mucha fluidez en las pocas, pero muy bien realizas, escenas de combate. Segundo, la trama aquí está muchísimo mejor realizada. Tal vez se debe un poco a que es más simple y menos ambiciosa que la del primer volumen. Sin embargo, logran amarrar perfectamente lo visto en el primer y el segundo volumen y eso que las historias no están seriadas realmente. La trama está llena de referencias sutiles, unas veces menos que otras, a la cultura pop y a la música, no sólo Brit Pop sino Pop en general. De manera muy bien planeada y aterrizada, el equipo nos lleva a través de una historia Faustiana dónde el trato sale mal y revertirlo o corregirlo es el nudo que los personajes tratan de resolver. Creo que es aquí donde Gillen explota los temas músicales y las letras de canciones de manera asombrosa para fortalecer el mensaje principal de la trama. Gillen arroja elementos culturales y les da una explicación y un motivo dentro de la historia que está contando. Este volumen toma prestado algunos elementos de The Wicked + The Divine. Y aunque no me molesta del todo, me causa ruido porque efectivamente las temáticas son parecidas y en muchas veces pareciera que son el mismo universo. Esta historia resonó fuertemente en mí por lo sincero de los diálogos y lo bien construido que están los personajes de Claire y Emily. Gillen utiliza a estos dos personajes para demostrarnos efectivamente, los sacrificios que hacemos todos los días para ser quienes somos, todo lo que dejamos atrás por las decisiones que tomamos y creo que entrega este mensaje de manera sublime. Definitivamente estaré al pendiente de Phonogram volumen 2 para completar esta serie bastante interesante que en su tiempo propuso cosas muy innovadoras sobre la manera de mezclar música con cómics y que Gillen y Mckelvie terminaron de amarrar en WicDiv.
I have been a huge fan of Phonogram since Rue Britannia. With 3 graphic novels worth of Phonogram, the series has grown and changed from a quirky high-concept comic to a true experimental and bold force to be reckoned with. Its lifeblood is how music - how we love, embody, and interpret it - is magic. It's great to see over the decade it took to make the three volumes, Kieron Gillen and Jamie McKelvie grow as creators and artists. With each new volume, the creativity and skill has greatly improved even with the high bar set so early on. For The Immaterial Girl, Gillen and McKelvie are joined by Matthew Wilson and Clayton Cowles who imbue the comic with daring colors and groundbreaking lettering.
The Immaterial Girl follows Emily Aster, a character who has been with us since the beginning of the series, and it gives us a background to her life from when she was Claire to after she sold half of her personality to become Emily, a believer that music does not exist outside of the music video and images. When Claire gains control of Emily's body, Emily is sent through an Immaterial World of famous music videos. This volume acts as a sort of passing of the torch for music and how each new generation falls in love with both the newest music and older classics.
Despite the great improvement and overall quality with a more focused narrative, I still love the second volume, The Singles Club, a little bit more. Nevertheless, visually and textually, this comic pushes the #quality to the highest. Whether you're a comic or music fan, this is a comic book not to be missed.
I absolutely loved the first volume of Phonogram. It talked about music exactly as I feel it. It felt like it was written for or about me. A few pages made me cry. I also enjoyed The Singles Club. Maybe it didn't feel as perfect as Rue Britannia, but it felt thrilling at many points. But this... This has been just boring. It feels more like The Wicked + The Divine than Phonogram. I guess that why people liked it. But I find it lame and empty. Too lost in its own meta references, too eager to be cool. And then, waisting amazing characters like Indie Dave, Black Laura or Silent Girl. I didn't like the fact that Singles Club almost didn't have a plot, but the one here is just too... Lame. I get that this volume is about classic videoclips, but it doesn't feel as real or as emotional as anything from Rue Britannia. But maybe it's just that I have much deeper feelings for Richey's disappearance than for Michael's death. But nothing feels right here. The lead character (the only time it's clearly a girl in this series, of course) feels under developed. I never really connected with her. And Kohl, as cool and funny as he is, has way too many pages of his own. He feels more autobiographical than ever in this volume, and it is a little bit too much. For me this is, by far, the worse volume of Phonogram. But I'm sure it's the only one that WicDiv fans actually enjoy
Kieron Gillen, Jamie McKelvie, and Matt Wilson return to the world of Phonogram, and this is a book that's gotten better with each volume, though I still don't really love it or understand what the fuck is going on because the magic system is hazy and ill-defined. But as someone who loves stories about identity, I was of course drawn to the story of Emily Aster, who sold half her personality to the King Behind the Screen but then has to confront that discarded half some years later. There are occasional moments with some resonant character work, but since I don't really have any emotional attachment to the characters in this book, they don't entirely land. The music referencing has been toned way down and is far less pretentious and obscure to the point where even I get most of it!! The fun part of this book is it's basically an excuse for Gillen and McKelvie to pay homage to classic music videos (and, unexpected, Scott Pilgrim), and godfuckingdamn, McKelvie is ON GODDAMN FIRE in this issue, wow. Seriously, this book is worth reading for the art alone, the way he brings all these worlds to life, all those creative panel layouts, all the weird shit I dig in Gillen/McKelvie books. This one's fun, and it gives me hope that The Wicked + The Divine will have more of this energy and this balance of storytelling and self-indulgence.
The third Phonomancer volume is about Emily Aster, one of the more fascinating characters in the series. As a child her former self, Claire, watched MTV and fell in love with music, and was promised a perfect life by The Man Behind The Screen if she gave up half of her personality. When she grew up, she carefully snipped away the parts that she didn't want anymore and offered them up to become Emily Aster, the devastatingly clever coven leader who always listens to the most modern music and never looks back. "Nostalgia is an emotion for people who don't have a future." But her former self was always there, plotting a way to get back, and finally takes her chance. Emily becomes stuck behind the screen, running from the pipe wrench wielding villains from the Take On Me video and the zombies from Thriller. Claire, a fan of self sabotage, takes the opportunity to blow up Emily's carefully cultivated life. A slightly paunchier and balder David Kohl has to try to save her, but can he succeed? The younger crew from The Singles Club also show up, ready to have the torch passed onto them from their elders. This book feels like an end, but I'm hoping Black Laura and "Mr. Logos" Lloyd appear in future stores.
Well, this was just a fascinating fucking read. The conclusion of the Phonogram series is the most overt, over-the-top, self-indulgent part of what was always obviously an autobiographical series, and I kind of don't mean that in any bad way. I know it reads negatively, but it was always so obvious and Gillen was always so upfront with it, that it was just kind of shocking to see it and the way that it did. The story in this volume is ostensibly about Emily Aster and her inner fight, but the story was always about David Kohl who started out as an over-the-top asshole who is fighting to keep himself as the man-child that he was, and it ends with David Kohl still being that arrogant asshole man-child, just with a tiny bit of growth. Then we get the curtain pulled back when we see Gillen living a real life, and we see the disparity between the creator and his creation. It was also incredible to read this back to back with Mage which I think contrasted quite well with an older man accepting his old man growth, compared to this one where the old man wants to be a child forever, but begrudgingly grows a smidgen. The art was beautiful, and the music references were good, but overall I don't think I would ever recommend phonogram to anyone.
This rounds up my journey into Kieron Gillen's Phonogram universe and it's been quite the journey. Where the second volume felt like an experiment in a multi-POV story, this book goes back to having a greater focus on a main arc with some side stories. But man, the story in itself had a great concept at its heart with our protagonist literally dealing with her other half.
The love of music remains strong and I loved how the stylings of the music video for A-ha's Take on Me" totally worked for this narrative. It made for a striking visual treatment and later also supported the story in terms of some of the "solutions" to the challenges.
I also appreciated how we continue to see core characters from earlier in the Phonogram series and how they've matured a bit, as has Gillen's writing at this point. The world feels a lot more fleshed out and substantial, which is only natural as we now have a relatively better understanding of the recurring characters.
As a whole, Phonogram is an interesting look into some of Gillen's earlier writing but also a concrete illustration of his progress and growth as a storyteller as well.
Doesn’t have the raw creative energy of Vol 2. (except in the Scott Pilgrim homage issue), but pays off all of the storylines in emotionally resonant ways. I love how sharp Emily’s chin is, as a random aside.
This volume is about aging and coming to terms with identity. You have the older characters coming to terms with the sacrifices they made and the paths not taken, some choosing to move on as others adapt. Still also, though not as highlighted, the next generation step up and seek to define themselves against their forebears. Maybe I’ll appreciate this more when I’m hitting middle aged.
How did Gillen and McKelvie accomplish this while making WicDiv? Truly a mystery. While the latter remains their opus, this seems to be their Rosetta stone. You get all of their tics and see their growth from the fresh raw but unrefined talent to the top of the game.
The densest of the Phonograms on a textual level, but I'll have to admit that the way this resolves its central dynamic thematically and all the stuff about resolving your own issues (especially re:self-destruction) by means of reconciliation w/yourself is pretty mid textbook psychology stuff. Actually loved the "side-stories", especially the Laura/Logos subplot, a good deal more than the main one, felt a lot more emotionally/thematically interesting. Does have some nice visuals tho and some of the ways it comments on one's personal relationship w/art & the dichotomy between music and images is pretty interesting.
I’d actually give this one a touch more than a 3, but less than a 4. A sound ending for a collected trilogy of comics revolving around the British music scene (and others) over a 20 year (or so) period. Lots of references to bands that didn’t get much play here in North America. Much material to seek out and play and at some level the intersection of magic and music makes both of them more real somehow.
Immaterial girl, trying to get back to a material world.
This third volume really wrapped everything together so well, on top of telling its own story. We see a girl trying to break a curse she put on herself while her friends try to figure out how to help (and if they even should). All the 80 music video references were great and pretty accurate. The art and format was fun. I think you need a deep love for music to really enjoy this series. Over all, great volume and maybe my favorite
Reading books to clean off my shelves, I did not like this as much as I thought I would when I kept it around for so long. I think part of that was the fact that I had not read volumes one or two, and thus was a bit lost in the world - not sure why this one came in a subscription box, but at least now I can get it out of my house.
Took me long enough to get around to finishing. Nicely ties together character aspects of the first two volumes while getting introspective/meta/80s-referential. The art, colors, and lettering by McKelvie, Wilson, and Cowles is spot-on - especially for the music video recreations.
Didn't even read it because the first two made no sense to me.
(I feel slightly ashamed to admit I didn't understand them. I would like to think it is because they are bent in a different direction than the bends I have in my mind.)
Slightly less referential, but an interesting follow-up / closer insight into one of the characters. I disliked Emily pretty much from the beginning, but learned to appreciate her as an actually pretty realistic character by the end.
kind of funny, given I was never a cool enough kid or adult, but you really have to have grown up in the time era of the creators of this comic to really get it. It’s one of those of things where lived experience - and observation as perceived outsider actually helps. (4.5/5)
....goddammit. Maybe I wouldn't have been so lost if I'd realized it was the third book. I'll give it four stars for now to be fair, and I"ll come back and do a proper review after I've read the first two.
A nice coming together of the whole series, and I felt like it had a more heartfelt message than the two previous volumes of Phonogram. Probably the best of the three, but alas, you can't really start here.
This final volume of the Phonogram series is as fitting a love letter to the world of music, and in particular the era of the music video, as you could ever want. While not as immediate as vol 2, this is still fantastic work by Gillen and McKelvie