![]() Laminated Denim is a very different beast. “Lava” is the standout in a truly virtuosic set, KG’s unerring internal logic leading them from Dirty Three-aligned experimental blues, through sweet, psychedelic pop and a high-speed prog wig-out to an outro of cosmic Clavinet shimmering. It carouses from the sweetly meandering pop of “Mycelium”, with its top notes of Vampire Weekend, and “Magma”’s lysergically groovy outflow of Can and Flower Travellin’ Band, to the pastoral psych funk of “Iron Lung”, with its flute trills and sudden wah-wah guitar vamps. The result is a glorious, dizzy riot with no direct precursor, though the fun KG had recording “The Dripping Tap”, the 18-minute motorik jam that opens this April’s Omnium Gatherum, was the spur. Jams that passed muster were then edited into songs by guitarist/producer Stu Mackenzie and overdubbed with flute, organ and extra guitar. (numerology geek alert) of jamming, with members playing for 45 minutes and then switching instruments to go again. The tracks were built from the ground up in the studio over seven days These are games of skill that sharpen KG’s inventive edge.įirst off the blocks is Ice, Death, Planets…, in which all seven modes of the major scale are represented, the initial letters of the words in the title acting as a mnemonic for those modes. It’s something they’ve done before: Quarters!is made up of four sections, each 10 minutes and 10 seconds long Nonagon Infinityplays as an endless loop and on Flying Microtonal Banana all instruments use quarter-tone tuning. Their latest splurge isn’t a trilogy in the conceptual sense, but each album has been shaped by a structural puzzle of the band’s own devising. All of which has shaped a unique world thick with metatextual references and symbology – whether fan-interpreted or intended, it’s hard to say – dubbed “the Gizzverse”. For all the genre switching, though, there are constants: KG’s grip on melody is steadfast and assured, while their vividly poetic lyrics (often a group effort) address serious subjects – environmental crises, concerns about humanity’s survival and the power of technology. The following year’s Float Along – Fill Your Lungssaw their first dabblings in psychedelia, but they swiftly moved on to stretch that descriptor by embracing kosmische (via Neu!, an ever present guide), sci-fi metal, Afro-funk, thrash, prog, ’70s heavy rock and jazz, also guided by their curiosity down side roads of Tropicalia, Turkish psych folk and Ghanaian highlife. As introductions go, it’s fun if hardly original – a rough-necked mix of ramalama punk, bluesy garage rock, surf rock and US alt.rock that’s light years away from where they are now. It’s the kind of rate that seems diarrhoeic, a likely sign of bloated creativity and reluctant self-editing, but KG have been scratching their expressive itch in increasingly inventive ways since 2012’s 12 Bar Bruise. Since their 2012 debut, they’ve averaged 2.3 albums per year, going into overdrive (again with five) in 2017. ![]() This month the Melbourne sextet release three albums of new material, bringing 2022’s tally to five. It’s hard not to boggle at King Gizzard’s stats. ORDER NOW: Bob Dylan is on the cover of the latest issue of Uncut.They also share a ferocious work ethic, releasing an avalanche of records in what seems like an urgent and endless artistic venting. ![]() Both bands have a lot in common: their resistance to said definition, for starters, along with their omnivorous musical appetites and protean vision. In a challenge to name the undisputed overlords of modern psych rock, two heavyweight contenders spring to mind – Osees and King Gizzard & The Lizard Wizard.
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