King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard, Flight b741
Album Reivew by Alexander Cain in Music Review World, 8.12.24
It’s been almost a full decade since King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard released I’m In Your Mind Fuzz, one of the earliest examples of the band’s undeniable capabilities with radical sonic experimentation. It’s the best record they’ve ever made, and it’s one of the greatest of our time. Everything that has come since has solidified them as a generation defining rock group, including their most recent release, Flight b471, which is more or less a return to basics for the band, paying tribute to their older quirks and stylistic choices. It could never in a million years equate to the greatness of Mind Fuzz, but it still serves a specific purpose to their discography, like every album that they have ever put out. If Frontman Stu Mackenzie & Co wanted to, they could probably produce something in equal grandeur and quality to Mind Fuzz, but only when the time is right. This record is a chance to slow down, but not really. They’ve made Flight b741 swiftly—but not hastily—while on the road, and that feeling is reflected in the garage sound that is not a skill of the band’s but an instinct. The band has been clear on their intentions for the album, which is to make something fun. And these 10 tracks are fun, but as always, King Gizz goes beyond simplicity in all conceptual regards. It’s a big band garage rock ’n’ roll barnburner showcasing their secondary instincts for blues, roots, glam, math, jazz, and psych, while also being a party.
This is one of the band’s most collaborative and improvisational albums in years. An example of the band’s jamming ability is immediately showcased at the very start of the opening track “Mirage City” as Kenny Ambrose-Smith sets one into motion with a single wavering wail from his saxophone.
The vocals that occur when the rhythm kicks in are reminiscent of The Beach Boys’, and recapture the types of harmonies that haven’t been pulled off this well by many male rock groups since The Beach Boys. “Hog Calling Contest” is an example of the surfer rock adjacent sounds that are sometimes subtle, but are centerfront on both the opening track and “Hog Calling Contest” and the gospel funk doo-wop number “Rats in the Sky:”
Songs like “Le Risque” and “Field of Vision” flirt with proto punk trappings with shouts and hollers amidst crunch electric guitars, with “Antarctica” crossing into funk territory while maintaining a similar stripped down King Gizz fashion to it that once again ultimately beckons to proto punk. Ambrose-Smith, in addition to his saxophone, also utilizes a harmonica on many tracks, adding to the jam band aesthetic the album has created, drawing comparisons to the Grateful Dead and in some respects Bob Dylan, if only for the harmonica.
It’s all good ol’ jive, impeccably written, and impeccably played, still retaining a special humanity, a primality of sorts, that may shine through even more than some of their most sensational albums. This is not a sci-fi record like many of them, even if there are references to cosmic travel from the first verse of “Mirage City.” It’s about people. Of course a lot of the King Gizz albums are about people in a roundabout way, even if the characters are cyborgs or zombies. But this one is actually about people. Real people like you and me.
No one wants to feel anything or admit to feeling anything anymore in art and rock ’n’ roll has become a directionless race for the next album of the summer or even album of the year. No one has seemed to inform ninety-five percent of all musicians that music doesn’t have to be serious or absolutely mind-blowing…it just has to be human. And I’m glad they’re stepping out of the norm and making something that shows a little vulnerability. Even King Gizz’s music has suffered from music’s overall decline in a very basic humanity, probably because everyone’s too caught up in art and forgetting that some of the best art is just like Flight b741, which is an album about making something on the road, from the guts of every member, and capturing a corner of time on a rock band’s tour of North America. It’s an album of sticks and spit, infused with the magical quality of a uniquely human, emotional touch.
On “Raw Feel,” Mackenzie sings: “We’ll dig to hell and back so you can see the devil’s lair / We’ll fly to heaven and home just to feel wind in your hair / We’ll climb the highest peak and smell an air of different kind / We’ll shoot an arrow through the sun to hear exploding skies.” In one swoop, King Gizz removed my doubts that they might become another band too cool to feel things and too cool to express those things. But here, they dedicate themselves to new experiences and new emotions, even if it means digging to hell and back or shooting arrows through the sun. Art for art’s sake, life for life’s sake.
The album maintains a consistent quality and pace, feeling urgent and frantic and even unpolished in a very abstract sense, given the production is immaculate as always. Track like “Sad Pilot” and “Le Risque” are some of the best rock tunes in a while, and the use of vintage organs on “Antartica” or “Field of Vision” or “Rats in the Sky” cannot go without mention, demonstrating that the band still has it in terms of subtle experimentation, even if the album isn’t as groundbreaking as others. The next big Gizz record will have its day, but not today.
“Daily Blues” is a classic King Gizz closer, being one of the longest and most genre-bending songs on the album, sending themselves off with the lines, “Thanks for flying / We’ve been your pilots / Lukey, Joe, Cookie, Amby, Cavs, Stuey / We couldn’t tell you what the local time is, but the weather's fine out / Get on your horse and ride out” delivered robotically by the whole band. The seven minute explosion of math and jazz and rock ’n’ roll concludes with the distant whirring of an airplane propeller and the neighing of a horse.
King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard has yet to become a household name, but the same has been the case for many of the greatest artists of all time. When the dust settles, no one’s gonna give a shit about all those Strokes rip off bands, and maybe even The Strokes themselves depending how soon they fuck up their legacy with a bunch of burned-out, dated projects, which I don’t think King Gizz will ever do. That’s part of why people are gonna give a shit about King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard, because of their consistency, but also because they are legitimately ahead of our time, and their genius isn’t being fully appreciated.
Thank you for reading, I’ve been your writer, Alexander Cain. Now go and listen to the new King Gizz album.
This is one of the band’s most collaborative and improvisational albums in years. An example of the band’s jamming ability is immediately showcased at the very start of the opening track “Mirage City” as Kenny Ambrose-Smith sets one into motion with a single wavering wail from his saxophone.
The vocals that occur when the rhythm kicks in are reminiscent of The Beach Boys’, and recapture the types of harmonies that haven’t been pulled off this well by many male rock groups since The Beach Boys. “Hog Calling Contest” is an example of the surfer rock adjacent sounds that are sometimes subtle, but are centerfront on both the opening track and “Hog Calling Contest” and the gospel funk doo-wop number “Rats in the Sky:”
Songs like “Le Risque” and “Field of Vision” flirt with proto punk trappings with shouts and hollers amidst crunch electric guitars, with “Antarctica” crossing into funk territory while maintaining a similar stripped down King Gizz fashion to it that once again ultimately beckons to proto punk. Ambrose-Smith, in addition to his saxophone, also utilizes a harmonica on many tracks, adding to the jam band aesthetic the album has created, drawing comparisons to the Grateful Dead and in some respects Bob Dylan, if only for the harmonica.
It’s all good ol’ jive, impeccably written, and impeccably played, still retaining a special humanity, a primality of sorts, that may shine through even more than some of their most sensational albums. This is not a sci-fi record like many of them, even if there are references to cosmic travel from the first verse of “Mirage City.” It’s about people. Of course a lot of the King Gizz albums are about people in a roundabout way, even if the characters are cyborgs or zombies. But this one is actually about people. Real people like you and me.
No one wants to feel anything or admit to feeling anything anymore in art and rock ’n’ roll has become a directionless race for the next album of the summer or even album of the year. No one has seemed to inform ninety-five percent of all musicians that music doesn’t have to be serious or absolutely mind-blowing…it just has to be human. And I’m glad they’re stepping out of the norm and making something that shows a little vulnerability. Even King Gizz’s music has suffered from music’s overall decline in a very basic humanity, probably because everyone’s too caught up in art and forgetting that some of the best art is just like Flight b741, which is an album about making something on the road, from the guts of every member, and capturing a corner of time on a rock band’s tour of North America. It’s an album of sticks and spit, infused with the magical quality of a uniquely human, emotional touch.
On “Raw Feel,” Mackenzie sings: “We’ll dig to hell and back so you can see the devil’s lair / We’ll fly to heaven and home just to feel wind in your hair / We’ll climb the highest peak and smell an air of different kind / We’ll shoot an arrow through the sun to hear exploding skies.” In one swoop, King Gizz removed my doubts that they might become another band too cool to feel things and too cool to express those things. But here, they dedicate themselves to new experiences and new emotions, even if it means digging to hell and back or shooting arrows through the sun. Art for art’s sake, life for life’s sake.
The album maintains a consistent quality and pace, feeling urgent and frantic and even unpolished in a very abstract sense, given the production is immaculate as always. Track like “Sad Pilot” and “Le Risque” are some of the best rock tunes in a while, and the use of vintage organs on “Antartica” or “Field of Vision” or “Rats in the Sky” cannot go without mention, demonstrating that the band still has it in terms of subtle experimentation, even if the album isn’t as groundbreaking as others. The next big Gizz record will have its day, but not today.
“Daily Blues” is a classic King Gizz closer, being one of the longest and most genre-bending songs on the album, sending themselves off with the lines, “Thanks for flying / We’ve been your pilots / Lukey, Joe, Cookie, Amby, Cavs, Stuey / We couldn’t tell you what the local time is, but the weather's fine out / Get on your horse and ride out” delivered robotically by the whole band. The seven minute explosion of math and jazz and rock ’n’ roll concludes with the distant whirring of an airplane propeller and the neighing of a horse.
King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard has yet to become a household name, but the same has been the case for many of the greatest artists of all time. When the dust settles, no one’s gonna give a shit about all those Strokes rip off bands, and maybe even The Strokes themselves depending how soon they fuck up their legacy with a bunch of burned-out, dated projects, which I don’t think King Gizz will ever do. That’s part of why people are gonna give a shit about King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard, because of their consistency, but also because they are legitimately ahead of our time, and their genius isn’t being fully appreciated.
Thank you for reading, I’ve been your writer, Alexander Cain. Now go and listen to the new King Gizz album.