I feel like every other week, there’s another King Gizzard release. They seem to be able to churn out records with the same frequency I wash my hair, and each individual release is as worthwhile as the last. Their latest offering I’m In Your Mind Fuzz slots into the endless succession of King Gizzard releases effortlessly.
It picks up where Head On/Pill and Oddments left off. However, it’s apparent now King Gizzard don’t necessarily evolve from record to record, but rather through each record and into the next. If your turntable was to play the anthology without breaking, the sound would be just as intelligible between records as it would be within the one record.
That’s not to say they haven’t changed or they don’t experiment with certain releases, they do. I’m In Your Mind Fuzz has a persistence to it, particularly in the drumming that doesn’t let up and feels more inspired by Thee Oh Sees than previous records. By the same token, there seems to be a less complex array of guitar tones in the record, less colossal clashes of tone and less points of heavy breathing.
As a whole, the record is light and bouncy, with a strong metronomic movement to it, particularly in the earlier stages of the album from I’m In Your Mind to Hot Water. The record opens up a little toward the end, where slower and broader tracks like Slo Jam and Satan Speeds Up round out the record well.
I’m In Your Mind Fuzz has a very fluid, stream of consciousness feeling to it. Each song moves seamlessly into the next, the tone is warm, and the beginning of each track is invited in by the conclusion of the one before it. While the record ebbs and flows with varying levels of complexity, it always seems constant. It’s a difficult thing to do. Any old schmo can cut his record with each track bleeding into the next, but few can make it make sense. There’s quite an innate humanism to it other bands have attempted, but haven’t been able to properly replicate.
The essential quality to brilliant psych music’s central to the concept: it’s the ability to decode the human psyche and reinterpret it sonically. Few artists genuinely hold that ability, but without it, all the fuzz and reverb in the world won’t bring your song back. Without it, the music doesn’t have a pulse.
By Keats Mulligan
