When I was 13-16, I managed to get ahold of every issue of Raw, and the Raw books: Big Baby, Jimbo, Invasion of the Elvis-zombies, Maus, and Francoise Mouly's "X".
There might have been more, but I forget. The books were very well-done.
Raw magazine, (however) was overrated NYC-bullshit. It reminded me of cocaine; seeming to almost reach something important, but never getting there.
Which is my problem with 99% of today's indie-comics, and why I was ambivalent about being included in those Best American Comics volumes. The material has no objective-value. Poorly drawn, poorly-designed, "experiments" created by people who have bypassed the learning of fundamentals.
The creators are self-congratulating hacks, who have successfully used social-media to build an audience consisting of both-
A:) People who are dedicated to being "nice", (and therefore hold only ad-hoc tastes, and opinions), and
B:) People who buy comics because the creator is seen online as, cute/sexy/popular/etc.
This is a situation that builds egos, and prevents the owners of those egos from improvement, originality or innovation, because they've built around themselves an audience lacking any depth, or discernment. Or in other-words; each hack-creator is encased in a cocoon of mediocrity.
