By: Andy Little
King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard | facebook | bandcamp |
It can be absorbingly intriguing how various artists carry out their creative processes. Artists have different methods, sometimes they follow previous successful routines, other times adopt alternative routes to capture their intended sound. Two contrasting styles is one, a preference to the piece by piece, methodical path, where months turn into years before a project slowly but eventually materialises into a complete result, or those who have seemingly endless bursts of speeded up productivity. A prime example of the latter is Credence Clearwater Revival producing their classic run of 6 albums in a staggering three years’ period. Trailblazing a similar path in output is Melbourne’s prolific psychedelic outfit King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard as Nonagon Infinity is their fourth album in just under two years. And if they continue song-writing in the way they blitz their way through the bespoke album’s nine tracks in 41 minutes, then it’s any one’s guess how many more they will produce in the next proceeding time frame.
After a brief flirtation exploring jazz flavoured cosmic psych on ‘Quarters’ and an acoustic riddled, pastoral folk vibe with 2015’s ‘Paper Mache Dream Balloon’ album, on this release it is a return to plugging in the guitars, and to give it some context, recall’s the similar fuzzed up psychedelic garage edge of ‘I’m in the mind fuzz’ opus from 2014. But this time out, they’ve upped the energetic drive, expanded the ambition, to mark a band in full flight.
The album title is nicely connected to the structural construction of the record – a Nonagon is a nine sided Polygon and infinity is a never ended loop with limitless possibilities – the nine tracks are indeed looped so the closing track leads straight back into the opening song. Fittingly, it also sounds like a band full of flowing creative spirit, spitting endless energy, and an incredible tightly controlled focus that betrays its initial wayward raucous thrashing, while each song blends into the next, some effortlessly, others with abrupt bursts of explosive sounds.
‘Loosen up’, ‘don’t care about it’ sings Stu Mackenzie as ‘Robot Stop’ crashes in with a Nuggets garage rock energy, buzzsaw guitars fizz with attack and melody, backed by a motorik rhythm. And it is this relentless driving rhythm joyously continues as ‘Big fig wasp’ bristles ‘as insects grow’, cymbals crash abounds and by the end it effortlessly returns to the chorus of opening song ‘Robot stop.’ Then without pause for breath and a yelp, into the frenetic harmonica driven snotty punk infused psychedelia of ‘Gamma knife’. And if that isn’t an explosive fun-fuelled rocket of an opening then ‘People – vultures’ early floating guitar refrain leads right back into a rebel rousing rhythm, a hypnotic groove dance inducer, an immense sound of a band in cohorts with each others ideas and vision.
It’s a brief but welcome drop of pace for the keyboard led 60’s psych pop sway of ‘Mr beat’. But not for long as they blast off again on a kaleidoscopic roller coaster of a ride as ‘Evil death roll’ – a notable cousin to ‘Gamma knife’ – shoots through the solar system. ‘Invisible face’, with it’s jerky guitar chops sounds the nearest this album gets to having a filler as it diverges into a jazz inflicted interlude, before developing into a prelude for the wonderfully catchy and trippy ‘Wah wah’, and its moments of dense blasts of sound. ‘Road train’ hurtles along the track, making good use of their two drummers, until it loops (if you press the repeat button) back into ‘Robot stop.’
Like holding your breath under water it’s a relief when you are back up on the surface to breathe. But it is an exhaustive pleasure to immerse yourself in this colourful, inventive, exhilarating album hearing a band collectively in tune, bustling with imaginative musical ideas. This album hails a record, and band, to get excited about.
