An eyebrow raising band name, wicked comic book artwork, an unrivalled rate of productivity and a bold amount of personnel. Yep, even in the abstract there’s a ‘phenomenal’ aspect to King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard. The band’s five sold out shows in Melbourne this week (tonight was #2) are a testament to the effects of that phenomenon, with some punters proudly boasting about securing tickets for each show.
For those uninitiated, King Gizzard is a seven-strong garage-rock beast: four guitar/bass players, three lead vocalists, two drummers and a consistent harmonica warble. Stepping back for a second, it’s essentially seven bemused dudes who dress like they don’t know what day it is and make a hell of a lot of noise. But once introduced to the King Gizzard phenomenon you can’t help but thirst to be part of it, to join the movement. Being part of it isn’t necessarily about uncovering biographical details and knowing exactly what it is. No – it’s about the sensation.
King Gizzard won’t display their mission statement, chiefly because they’d see no point in making one. They aren’t trying to uphold rock star mystique, they’re just getting kicks out of continually surprising themselves. And in doing so, they supply their fascinated following with similar kicking excitement.
Walking into the full-house Tote, any specific expectations ought to have been discarded at the door. King Gizzard’s recorded output contains a wealth of memorable material, but the likelihood of a best-of set was always slim. What we got was a large amount of unreleased material and regular extended hypnotic jams (generally rooted in one chord progression and a repeated melodic motif). This provided a welcome depiction of the fearless, hungry musicians responsible for three of the best Australian rock records of recent years. Accordingly, the sweaty onlookers more than willingly let the band direct them right into their psychedelic universe.
Now, it’s not ground-breaking songwriting, nor were the instrumental departures utterly captivating, but there’s simply no one saying it quite like they do. It should be noted that, although it’s almost a sure thing for King Gizzard to sell out five straight nights in Melbourne, this star power doesn’t quite apply to the nation’s other major cities. They are in a class of their own, but they wouldn’t suit being the biggest band in the country. The best features of tonight’s show rely upon the permission to be weird and unbounded; something that poster-boy status mightn’t allow for.
That said, there wasn’t a complete absence of ‘hits’. Towards the end of the frenzied set, ‘60s garage sing-along Willoughby’s Beach showered the room in glee. This segued into the show’s closing statement: the feverish, who-the-hell-knows-how-long-it-lasts Head On/Pill. The two-part epic from last year’s Float Along – Fill Your Lungs took the entire room into its psychedlic orbit and certified everyone as members of the movement.
BY AUGUSTUS WELBY
Loved: Seeing this at The Tote.
Hated: Not going to the other four shows.
Drank: MB, duh.
