But one skill he’s sorely lacking is basic arithmetic. Merinuk claims to have done about 150 record covers in his career, but any fan of international, trashy garage rock could tell you that his lurid linework appears on hundreds of LP covers, 45 sleeves, and CD inserts every year, providing provocative packaging for such immortals as Electric Frankenstein, Zombina and the Skeletones, and Los Ass Draggers. The creative Canuck is the premiere pen-pusher of the genre.
But climbing his mountain of album art, gig posters, and tour-shirts can be bittersweet if we pull this volume from our backpack after reaching Mt. Merinuk’s peak. Rockin’ Bones proved that King Meriunuk had it in him to be a master of sequential art, one of the true greats. But since its brief run, he’s only done a handful of strips for my zine, Roctober and a few boss stories for NIX. Had he been able to develop over the last two decades, it’s not a stretch to say that the entire course of human history would have been drastically altered.
Thus, I’m only stating the obvious when I declare that Steve Jobs, Jeff Bezos, and those Google goons most certainly sent a T-3 Terminator robot from the future to cancel Rockin’ Bones before it could wreak it’s glorious havoc on e-readers and their evil ilk. So it is with heavy heart that we must celebrate the brief run of the greatest rock ‘n’ roll horror comic ever published. As comics fans, we mourn the world’s loss, but on the other, mangled, rotting zombie hand, as album art aficionados we celebrate Bloodshot Bill’s, the Beach Bitches’, and the Vibrating Beds’ gain.