A synesthete’s review of King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard’s new record might talk about a spinning technicolour blur occasionally coalescing into jagged sunbursts of purple, crimson and acid green. That’s if they didn’t balk at the hint of ripe cheddar from the Australian psyche overlords’ cheerfully unpretentious name. But after some 17 albums and more than a decade almost constantly on the road selling millions of copies to a legion of obsessive fans; it’d take more than a neurological disorder and an aversion to clichéd literary devices to dim LW’s coruscating brilliance. It’s internal rhyme anyway. LW is the companion set to last year’s KG and the albums were…