#sleep drifter

King Gizzard and The Lizard Wizard - Flying Microtonal Banana

ALBUM REVIEW: King Gizzard & The Lizard Wizard - Flying Microtonal Banana

With the expected release of five albums, the discovery of the Gizzverse, and a slot in the Coachella lineup, 2017 is already promising to be the Year of the Gizzard. The rapid rise in popularity of psychedelic rock music has provided a platform for prolific artists such as King Gizzard & The Lizard Wizard to massively increase their audience. This newly-expanded fan base led to a colossal wave of hype leading up to the release of their ninth full-length album, Flying Microtonal Banana. This album marks the band’s exploration into microtones, which are essentially in-between notes that are not commonly heard in Western music. The band had to get their instruments customized in order to be able to play these notes. The zurna, a Turkish horn, is also featured prominently in many tracks. It produces a high-pitched sound somewhat like that of bagpipes. All of this instrumentation, combined with singer Stu Mackenzie’s signature melodic vocals, joins together to produce a Middle-Eastern-influenced sound heard throughout the record.

Opening track and lead single “Rattlesnake” begins with what sounds like the passing of wind through a barren wasteland before descending into the lead riff. Like many King Gizzard songs, this track features frequent repetition of the title in the lyrics. The rest of the lyrics appear to be depicting an encounter with a rattlesnake, with the singer taking the point of view of the snake. The song ends with the same sound of passing wind as heard in the beginning while flowing right into the next track, “Melting.” The soft guitars and synthesizer beats on this track create a very relaxed vibe while the lyrics begin a running theme on this record of how the planet is being destroyed through a careless attitude towards the environment. This point is truly driven home by the opening line of the song: “Thawing ices / Worse than ISIS / Worse than the most deadly virus.”

The theme of environmental peril continues on the next track, “Open Water,” in which the issue of vanishing coastlines is addressed while also illustrating a seafaring journey involving a rapidly approaching sea monster. The urgency in Mackenzie’s vocals help make it clear to the listener that we have ventured into unfamiliar territory, which is also a reflection of the band’s own experimentation. On “Sleep Drifter,” the band takes a break from the doom and gloom with a song that is actually somewhat romantic, despite once again featuring instrumentation that would be more fitting for a song with darker themes. In a hushed voice, Mackenzie muses that he always feels that he is with his lover, even when she is not physically present. Speaking of voices, the next track features a different voice entirely. “Billabong Valley,” one of the album’s standout tracks, features the band’s harmonica player, Ambrose Kenny-Smith, on lead vocals. The piano and zurna are heard clearly in multiple sections while the narrative in the lyrics plays out like a spaghetti western, telling the tale of real-life Australian bushranger Dan “Mad Dog” Morgan.

The next two tracks, “Anoxia” and “Doom City,” serve as direct complements to earlier tracks “Open Water” and “Melting,” respectfully. While “Open Water” depicted death by drowning, “Anoxia” relays a scenario in which a fire reached such a high temperature that the heat alone was able to absorb all the oxygen in the air, causing a nearby family to die of asphyxiation. A brief interlude in the song features guitars and the zurna playing a melody reminiscent of a snake charmer’s tune before leading into a final repetition of the song’s chorus, which fades into the intro to “Doom City.” “Doom City” begins with a slow droning of the bass, with a wailing guitar joining in soon after to make one initially think that a Black Sabbath song has come on, only to speed up in pace twenty seconds later. As aforementioned, this track serves as a complement to “Melting,” with the lyrics conveying a concerned focus on what air pollution has done to the world and its inhabitants.

At nearly the end of the album, “Nuclear Fusion” arrives and it is another standout track, this time relaying a slightly more positive message. In the beginning of the song, the words “nuclear fusion” are spoken by a voice that has been significantly pitched down, as if announcing the song to the listener in its own unique way. With the palm-muted guitars and a synthesizer chirping in cohesion between the verses and chorus, we are treated to one of the more upbeat songs on the album. In the lyrics, Mackenzie compares human beings to the fusion of atoms, claiming that we form relationships – or bonds – with other humans in a way that is similar in power and strength. Mackenzie appears to be suggesting that we are such complex beings, yet we fit together in these relationships in a very elegant and neat manner. The album closes with the title track, “Flying Microtonal Banana,” an instrumental number that serves as a culmination of all the experimentation that preceded it. Appearances by the zurna, piano, and all the other microtonally-tuned instruments assert their way throughout this track, only to eventually be drowned out by the same sound of passing wind that was heard at the beginning of the album. 

Overall, this album marks another successful outing in the career of King Gizzard & The Lizard Wizard. One can only imagine what the next four albums due out this year will sound like. Until then, we can look forward to their upcoming performance at the Club on March 29 to hear if these songs sound as good live as they do on the album.