Joey Z’s “Where Did You Go, My Friend” Is a Psychedelic Hug to the Ones We've Lost

Somewhere between a campfire sing-along and a hallucinogenic breakdown lives “Where Did You Go, My Friend,” the latest single from Austin’s experimental comedy shapeshifter Joey Z. Known for his self-branded genre of “sound clown”—a fever dream fusion of stand-up, folk, electronic, noise, and absurdist performance art—Joey delivers a surprisingly tender track that captures the existential comedy of losing your friends mid-trip... and sometimes, forever.

The track lives on Joey’s newly released audio project TRIP SITTER, an homage to his early 20s self—a time full of psychedelic journeys, self-medication, and emotional chaos. If that sounds heavy, don't worry: Joey Z doesn't just make you feel; he makes you laugh about the fact that you're feeling at all.

Before the song begins in the live show, Joey sets the stage with a vivid story: him and his friends, all on acid, chasing after their buddy Brad who’s mysteriously vanished. As the group dissolves into giggles and sheep impressions (yes, sheep), Brad reemerges like a glitch in the matrix—unbothered, uninformed, and perfectly timed.

It’s funny because it’s true: we’ve all lost a Brad at some point, whether on the dancefloor, at a bar crawl, or in life’s stranger corners. But this song goes deeper. It explores the uncanny loop of friendship and time—how people disappear, reappear, and sometimes never come back. While “Where Did You Go, My Friend” started as a hilarious trip tale, it gained new meaning in late 2022 when Joey lost a close friend—also named Brad, though not the same one from the story. “I can’t sing it now without thinking of him,” Joey says. “He’s gone, but we’ll be back together someday hanging out.”

That duality—of laughing through grief and grieving through laughter—is what makes this song (and Joey’s whole deal) quietly revolutionary. It’s comedy that sits in the weird middle ground between memory and melancholy. It’s music that hugs you, spins you in a circle, then lets you go find your friends again.

Mastered by Ethan Billips (Blank Hellscape, This Will Destroy You), TRIP SITTER manages to sound both disjointed and deeply intentional. The song’s lo-fi aesthetic and sparse instrumentation reflect Joey’s broader commitment to doing things differently—from sketch comedy and storytelling to surrealist visuals and sheep-mime performance art (yes, that’s a real thing he’s working on next).

In a media landscape obsessed with polish and perfection, Joey Z embraces the glitch, the skip, the stoned silence. It’s not just about what’s being said—it’s about what isn’t. He invites listeners into a liminal space: a “mini trip,” as he calls it, where the line between joke and journal entry blurs beautifully.

Joey doesn’t want you to get it. He just wants you to feel it. Maybe laugh. Maybe cry. Maybe stare at the ceiling wondering what happened to your Brad. “There’s one comment on the full album on YouTube that says, ‘What is this?’ and that’s been my favorite takeaway so far.”

It’s hard to argue with that. “Where Did You Go, My Friend” isn’t just a song. It’s a portal. A ping to the people we’ve lost in the haze—whether for an hour, a year, or forever.

So press play, close your eyes, and let Joey Z guide you through a trip worth taking.

You describe your genre as “sound clown.” Can you walk us through what that means to you and how you landed on that term?

In my sets, my humor relies on my physicality and my playful nature with the audience, and I feel like that's "clown" behavior. But there can also be songs/sound effects that get me booked at music venues. About four years ago I feel like I started describing my act that way. Before COVID, I was mainly just a traditional stand-up comedian, and I'll still do that sometimes, too.

“Where Did You Go, My Friend” has both hilarious and deeply emotional layers. How do you balance humor and vulnerability in your songwriting and live performances?

I would balance them equally in the live one-man show. Going from funny to vulnerable moments showcases the range of your show and of you as a performer/storyteller. When I do the songs live now, I can just go into it, and people dance, and they don't know it's about this long back story. They can just get lost in the song, and I've been trying to tap into that more lately.

"Trip Sitter" feels like a time capsule of your younger self. What was the most cathartic part of finally putting this material out into the world?

Finally deciding to be done with it and not worrying if it's perfect or not. Or if a distributor will help me put it out. Just to have it out for people to enjoy is nice.

You’ve shared stages with Reggie Watts, Danny Brown, and Wolves of Glendale—how have those experiences influenced your own approach to live performance?

Definitely has helped with my confidence and if my "style" is something people even want to see. I worked with those people all after 2020 also, when I started experimenting with sound clowns and different performance styles. It's been a lot of fun doing these new ideas, pushing myself creatively, and eventually getting to work with some true legends.

What's next for you?

There are a couple of projects going on right now, but mostly, I feel compelled by this new act I'm working on where I'm a sheep the whole time, and it's EDM music and mime.