Listen here.
I feel like a lot of bands have thought about making an infinitely looping album like Nonagon Infinity--not the least of which is Pink Floyd with the mind-melting transitions on Dark Side of the Moon--but apparently Australia's King Gizzard is the first band to have balls to go through with it. And, man, do they do it well.
The album kicks off with the barn-burner "Robot Stop," beginning with an ominous invocation/prelude, "Wait for the answers to open the door/Nonagon infinity opens the door," before all 7 members of the band jump on their instruments, slamming out riffs, cutting off eighth notes from their bars, and wooping and wailing like Indian braves playing garage punk.
For the next 40 minutes the band mines every nook and cranny of this sound. Like the album cover shows, not only does track 1 connect to track 2, etc., but track 1 connects to tracks 8, 9, 3... The most obvious connection is the "nonagon infinity" chant, which pops up as the album's running mantra on "Robot Stop," "Big Fig Wasp," "Evil Death Roll," and closer "Road Train." Similarly, lyrics from track 7, "Invisible Face," first pop up on the prior track, "Evil Death Roll." And "Big Fig Wasp" is built on a riff that grows out of the middle of "Robot Stop." All in all, this makes the album feel like one hulking, twisting, connected, breathing organic life form. ...in the best way possible. Sometimes, yes, this mining of the same sound for 9 straight tracks drags, like on "Wah Wah" and "Gamma Knife," which I don't feel bring anything new to the table. But these moments are more than redeemed by other genius moments of songwriting like the entirety of "Mr. Beat."
Photo credit: http://www.relix.com/articles/detail/spotlight_king_gizzard_the_lizard_wizard |
A little note on the album's production: The first time you put on the album, if you're like me, you'll be checking the EQ on your stereo, making sure the treble and mid didn't somehow get turned down to levels of murky muddiness. It's not your stereo. It's the lower-than-lo-fi production, making the album feel 40 years older than it is. In fact, legend has it that vocalist Stu Mackenzie actually uses a microphone that is literally from the 70s. I wouldn't doubt that for a second. Once your 21st century ears get adjusted to the incredible fuzz and murk, you'll find that Nonagon Infinity's quirky sound often achieves a level of visceral energy that other modern band's slick and sexy production misses.
Through the band's short but ridiculously prolific career so far, with only 6 years and a whopping 8 albums under their belt, have shown that they certainly aren't afraid to try out what others won't. I mean, again. They're called King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard.
They've made love songs to their homeland's beloved Vegemite, traded their fuzzed out garage rock for something closer to indie folk, and now they've made literally the album version of a geometric figure. I'm just excited to see what these guys try next.
OVERALL SCORE: 8.6 | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
King Gizzard & the Lizard Wizard – Nonagon Infinity | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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