It’s rare for me to take notes when I’m reading a comic I plan to review because I’m trying to preserve my reaction to it. For me, the truth exposes itself without the need for planning. I did open this document while I was reading, and the only note or coherent thought I could put down was, “Oh my gosh.” The urge to take notes was quickly overtaken by tears.
Spectrum #1 from Mad Cave Studios is a beautiful, heartfelt comic by Rick Quinn (writer) and Dave Chisholm (artist, and letterer). If you’re reading this, you’ve probably been moved by a song or an album. I know this because you’re human. Reading Spectrum reminds me of all the times I’ve been moved by music.
I could go into the specifics of Spectrum, but the plot is not the selling point. The concept is music. Spectrum is an ode to those songs. Spectrum is those song(s). Spectrum is that song you came across by accident and suddenly you’re thinking that you are capable. You’re ready to take on anything. You don’t feel alone anymore. You don’t feel like the world is ending. The pressure is gone (albeit temporarily,) but it feels like something changed. You feel like you’re going to be okay because you’re still alive.
From the rich narration where Rick takes his time bringing the reader into the tale to the fluid layouts of Dave that feel like they unspool effortlessly, the team creates a beautiful momentum that lures the reader in, like when you hear the opening notes of your favorite song. It’s a dense read, but it’s utterly and completely captivating. The collaboration on display here is just like any retelling of a legendary band– it simply works, almost magically.
From page 1, I knew this comic was special, but it was about halfway through when the main character, Melody, was faced with a wall of CDs; the words that Quinn chose for that moment were perfect and instantly transported me to when I first bought a CD with my own money.
The issue builds to a climax that is not unlike a memorable bridge in a song; it’s an ascension that lifted me upward and instantly brought me back to when I’d discover a band on the radio and then be overwhelmed with “Did they make that for me?”
There’s power in art and Spectrum is a beautiful reminder, as well as an ode to that. Quinn’s writing often feels like poetry, combined with Chisholm’s delicate and vibrant artwork, there’s this seductive rhythm to Spectrum. Sit back and let the carefully calculated rhythm between Quinn and Chisholm brighten your day.
