People confuse enlightenment for insanity, and some do the opposite.
Though the mental state of the band called King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard is up for debate, that they exude some real energy in their music is hard fact.
Known for their impressive production schedule, including seven albums and two EPs in a span of four years, the band’s 10th release, Nonagon Infinity, challenges notions of what an album is even supposed to be.
The nine-track record contains a rare, cyclical format. Not only does each song seamlessly transition into the next, but the ending of the last track, “Road Train,” flows into the beginning of the opening, “Robot Stop.” The frontman Stu Mackenzie describes this transition as that of a “sonic mobius strip.”
The music within is just as eccentric.
“Robot Stop” feels reminiscent of Radiohead at times, while also occasionally giving off a Nirvana-esque, punky flavor. The track urgently chugs along, showcasing the guitarists’ individual abilities while also impressing with a unified feel. Though instruments each take moments in the spotlight, none ever feel shoved into the background.
“Invisible Face” is incredibly arranged and incomparable to anything else. The song begins quick and choppy, eventually transitioning into a smooth concoction of hi-hat hits, strums and synths. It ends as it begins, with Mackenzie singing “What it is / impossible.”
The next track, “Wah Wah,” features a now paranoid Mackenzie announcing “He has a thirst to satisfy a craving for your blood.” It’s hard to tell if the band is disturbed, or if they’ve simply done too much acid in their lifetime. Either way, it’s near-fruitless to try and decipher the lyrics; there simply seems to be no unified theme.
The high energy of the album is indicative of what one might expect at one of the band’s shows; Mackenzie’s singing of the lines “Loosen up, tighten up, fuck shit up, don’t forget about it” almost sounds as if it’s coming from the same room as the listener.
While one might dismiss Nonagon Infinity as a meaningless mishmash of sounds, there’s certainly value in its overall peculiarity.
The album may not spur a political revolution, but it just might inspire some kid somewhere to start playing the guitar. It might inspire some 43-year-old to dye their hair blue. It might even inspire some college graduate to send a nice letter to their older sibling.
Not everyone can appreciate statements as bold as Nonagon Infinity, but that doesn’t necessarily mean it’s bad. The unpredictable album, while thematically lacking, showcases the talent and audacity of a unified, unruly group of musicians.
