Review by AVA LIVERSIDGE
Australian psych-rock outfit King Gizzard & The Lizard Wizard made their delightfully bizarre debut in 2010. The group has released its 26th studio album, LP Flight b741, via the band’s new label p(doom) Records. It’s hard to tell what accounts for what seems like a bottomless reservoir of creative juice, but the astoundingly prolific group delivers, somewhat mysteriously, with each subsequent release.
It’s no doubt that the Gizz found their niche early on—kaleidoscopic, polyphonic microtonal collage work set off by an army of multi-instrumentalists whose specialities range from electric guitar to clarinet to zurna—and they’ve stuck to it.
Their latest mission, frontman Stu Mackenzie reports on the group’s Bandcamp, was “to make something that was primal, instinctual, more ‘from the gut’ – just people in a room, doing what feels right. We wanted to make something fun.”
The result is a highly improvisatory 10-track collection that is positively mind-melting. A more intimate approach to the music making process lends itself to a bit less instrumental complexity than the highly-ornate constructions typically produced by these mad scientists.
A potent lineage from the ’70’s Americana rock scene can be heard across the record as the group reverts back to the music from which they were weaned. Lead single “Le Risque” fully encapsulates this energy with the snap and crackle of any worthwhile prog-rock paired with lyrics that are self-deprecating in the most delightfully clever capacity.
Second single “Hog Calling Contest” and its following “Field of Vision” are equally kicky. You don’t get the sense that King Gizzard is trying to lead listeners into some alternate dimension or unveil an underlying mathematical complexity to the sonic realm on Flight b741—as is typically my impression of their many releases and accompanying visual shows.
King Gizzard & The Lizard Wizard’s latest is somewhat simple in its rowdiness. These oddball, acid-soaked singles find home somewhere between Jethro Tull’s bucolic mystique and Aerosmith’s cavalier homegrowness. LP Flight b741 doesn’t take itself too seriously and is successfully and unmistakably a product of fun.
Listen to ‘Flight b741’ here:
