Mystical Shit Interview with Killer Acid

Interview by Matt Crabe

What is so mystical about this shit?

I glimpsed beyond the tattered veil of reality. In the darkness I saw prismatic looping waves of color, spiraling pulsating critters with demonic and angelic faces, and straight up dumb ass, sick as hell graphics. In the 1990s when I was a youth there was a backlash to the hippies turned rich boomers. There was a rejection of stank ass capitalism. Now we're past all that, in a new paradigm. I’m perpetually just that kid at heart, drawing in my notebook, feeling mystical, feeling shit. Been a part of everything, and against a lot of it.

How did you come to work with Desert Island for this project?

We talked about this book for like 2 years. I take a long time to do anything zine or book related. Love Desert Island. Best comics store in New York… dare I say, the known Universe? They were one of the first stores to support Killer Acid in a real way, back in like 2013, when I was first experimenting with DIY products. They let anyone sell a zine on consignment, which is equitable, and punk as hell.

Rob in the Studio

What is it like seeing ten years of work collected side by side?

It’s like looking at an HP Lovecraft void of demonic horrors. I low key hate looking at my own work. But it’s cool. I’ve drawn a lot of things. I’ve had a lot of thoughts. I’ve learned how to draw better, technically speaking, but the core thesis of Killer Acid has remained the same since the beginning. One part hippie, one part punk, one part busted up junk in the trunk. A very crude, lewd dude. And people have seen me improve, and have been cool with that. So I can show 10 or 15 years of work side by side without too much embarrassment.

In an age of endless digital slop, why do you think people still respond so well to books?

It’s good to pile up a truckload of books so that when you pass on to whatever comes next, your next of kin can pay the toll by selling them, or even by lugging them to the library or goodwill, while cursing your good name. Maybe, they even enjoy them, much like you did. People still like books for the same reason we like vinyl records. You never feel the satisfaction of turning the last page when you’re scrolling the internet, or hearing the needle disengage from the record. As humans, we need beginnings and ends. Now there is so much mid middle. The internet feels like a rubber novelty sandwich that you can never chew through, and never ends. You feel full, but never satiated. Anyways, books are cool.

Your work contains many common phrases, but also obscure and personal ones, what makes text such an important element to your work?

I come from a comics, graphics, and New York City advertising background, so I like words in with the pictures. I like a zingy caption. This is a Cat House. Take the High Road. Slow Your Roll. Pay No Mind. The World Goes On (after we’re gone). Take a Hike. Work All Day, The You Die, Smile Now, Cry Later. These phrases invoke a certain timelessness, but we are giving them a new visual context too, turning them on their ear. I grew up a very written word person. I clacked out many volumes of teenage poetry on the Dell computer in my parent’s basement before I ever dropped acid and harnessed the power of weird psychedelic boardwalk graphics. I want to keep my place in the old world. Some of Killer Acid’s best graphics don’t say shit though. A lesson there, perhaps.

These drawing feature a lot of little buddies getting weird, who are your favorite little buddies to draw?

These little guys are the gremlins I see in my mind. By and large, they are friendly, beneficent weirdos. They are docents of the mystical world. They are outside, they are nature. We are inside, wanting to break loose and dance with them. We think we are better than the animals, but the animals are much better than us. My favorite buddies to draw are ducks, cats, dogs, insects, lizards. Sometimes people want me to make a singular character, or pick a buddy to draw over and over again. That is probably good advice if you want to make the next Mickey Mouse and conquer the world, but I would be a little bored; I’m happy drawing my abundant weirdos.

Much like reality, there is a balance of joy and terror in these drawings, how do you balance extreme elements in your own life?

I don’t know, maybe there is something clinically wrong with me. This world is a horrible gnarly place, and wealth inequality is making it worse all the time. My Grandpa flew 35 missions in WW2, doing bomb runs over Europe. When I was young, he would tell me that war is a scam. A game for the rich to get richer, while risking lives of the poor. I think we’ve been brainwashed in this country to think everyone is our enemy, meanwhile both political parties have sold us out, hollowing out much of the moral value and any global good faith we had accrued. The boomers kinda fucked us. Modern life is terrifying. Do as Jesus would do. Love thy neighbor, all that. As an artist, I feel it’s my job to feel all of this, and offer some levity, comic relief, beauty, or otherwise. I am basically a glorified court jester to the king of capitalism. Extreme feelings are OK in my book. It’s society trying to flatten out, smooth out, squash our minds like a football, turn everyone into 24-7 doom scrolling, technology worshiping bots.

The Killer Acid Popup

When you illustrate skulls, you often depict them teeming with growth and excitement, suggesting death is not the end. Where do you think you will end up after you are free of this mortal coil?

I hope we get one final balls-to-the-wall rainbow ride back into the Universe. I hope we get to sit with all our old pets on a magic carpet and 1000x replay back through the best times of our life. Nearly every day I reflect or shed a tear for lost time, and the mistakes I’ve made, and the ones I am going to make. I hope I can resurrect in glowing fucking fashion, become a duck, one that is obviously not abused to make foie gras… but a free duck, flapping with his cousins into the sunset. But I also hope the maggots and worms get to dance and dine on my brain and skate my skull bowl. A fitting end for a fuck head.

Your work continues in the tradition of underground cartooning. Why do you think this practice has remained steady in our culture and evolved as opposed to dying out like so many other cultural trends?

As much as they want everything and everyone to look like a plastic wall with any sharp edges smoothed out, there will always be a need to vent and express dark thoughts. There will always be cave people scrawling out gibberish and psychedelic meanderings in pen and ink in a crappy lined notebook. There isn’t an app for this.

Do you have covid toes?

Yes, and brain.

In addition to depictions of the great beyond and shining a light on the dank corners of the mind, extra terrestrials are commonly seen throughout your drawings. When do you think the mothership is going down to earth?

When I was a little kid, my dad came home one night and walked into my room, looking pale as a ghost. He sat down beside my bed and told me he’d seen a space ship, that traffic had stopped, and many people got out to see it. He was usually very logical, practical, a school teacher by trade. But this night he told me about the UFO. Later, I heard more stories, from other friends. One night, blazed on weed and butane, I hallucinated a fully rendered gray alien in the backseat of my friends Chrysler New Yorker. I think they are very much already here, perhaps as guardian angels, curious gremlins, or our supreme puppet masters.

The message of a lot of these drawing is to slow down, look around and take joy in simple objects and actions. What do you think modern people lose by seeking an endless stream of information?

There is a lot of value in doing nothing. There is value in silence, meditation, stillness. People need to find this for themselves. The early bird gets the worm. But maybe the late bird can have a worm too. Maybe everyone should get a nice worm.

Rob and Matt in the Killer Acid Studios