For fans of comics, psyche rock, and comic adaptations of psyche rock: check out the fan-blog, newly minted “The King Gizzette” (my suggestion!), where I posted about my recent chat with the author and illustrator of Polygondwanaland, a graphic transmutation of the polyrhythmic album by sonic warlocks King Gizzard & the Lizard Wizard.

You can purchase a digital copy of the whole book at Hellmouth Comics.

If you need to be convinced, check out the full interview HERE. Joe and Jorge are true artists, in that they sacrificed their egos at the altar of adaptation. The comic is a wild romp through the magic and mysticism of one of the most enigmatic concept albums released in living memory. Many longtime Gizzheads name it their favorite, and the reason is clear (it rips). Something the creative team captures that ensure the success of the comic: the mystery. The album has an unclear narrative with many misty moments. The comic pumps plenty of that mist into its own concrete story. Some aspects are invented, others presumed, but all of it is fun.

If you’ve never heard the album, I cajole you to check it out. The grand achievement of the project is that it’s free. Free, as in free. King Gizz made all of its masters and artwork free to access and use as anyone wishes. That’s why Joe and Jorge aren’t worried about legal reprisals. It’s an official bootleg comic. It’s just one of the many examples of the ongoing egalitarian ethos from a band that keeps on giving. I myself purchased a fan-made vinyl pressing of the album in the style of 8-bit video game score (and it rips there too).

I’ve had the privilege of seeing King Gizzard & The Lizard Wizard live 8 times (so far). They have played Crumbling Castle (the first track) into Fourth Colour (the last track) at 4 of those concerts. Every time they do, I am reminded of the emotional tether connecting my soul to the original album. I was enduring a lot of psychological suffering in 2017, the year it came out. I was crumbling, in need of a new shape. I was searching for some kind of metaphysical balm. The musical mystery of this occult artifact provided such spiritual succor. The open spaces into which I poured my mind filled my heart with the warmth of creativity. I was able to let go of a lot of pain. I was able to enjoy the nonsense, the silliness, the badassery.

Dorky dudes fooling around with instruments: that’s all humanity is doing. The universe is one giant presentation of self with its individual parts spinning willy-nilly until it all falls down. We are neurons sparkling in the mind of God. We’re a tasty dream. There’s no wrong way to participate in the grand tradition of play. And now, we welcome Joe Courtney and Jorge Peña’s contribution to that tradition. Their artifact piggy-backs on the generous gift seven weirdos from Australia have brought to us.

I believe the hyperbole.