In 2019, it felt weird to see King Gizzard & the Lizard Wizard two nights in a row. Living in Ottawa at the time, travelling to Toronto or Montreal to see a concert was a common occurrence — but visiting both cities felt frivolous.
Three years later, I'd do it again, tacking on Detroit, plus two nights at Colorado's Red Rocks Amphitheatre. On the train back home to Toronto, I won tickets to two shows at Austin's LEVITATION festival, and soon after, was counting down to six more in Colorado and Chicago. When I share my upcoming run, people assume exaggeration, and when tour friends text "six nights in Lithuania and Bulgaria?" I roll my eyes — but consider it for a moment.
What sounds like a swift descent into madness or preface for a cult escape thinkpiece is actually pretty standard behaviour for a passionate King Gizzard fan. Why I and many others readily spend a month's rent on dozens of concert tickets is difficult to pinpoint, and something that escapes the Melbourne rock band's comprehension as well.
"Hell no!" exclaims singer-guitarist Stu Mackenzie when I ask if he had ever expected the Grateful Dead-esque fandom surrounding the band. Speaking by phone on the eve of the summer solstice, his wide-eyed gratitude is palpable as he pieces together the puzzle.
I understand his disbelief. Following King Gizzard to cities I have trouble placing on a map was more of a culture that absorbed me at its onset than a conscious lifestyle choice. "It was definitely not part of the game plan. I mean, I'm not sure we ever really had a solid game plan," admits Mackenzie.
A dozen years and more than twice as many albums into King Gizzard's career, it's understandable he hasn't had much time to pause and reflect on the band's ascent, especially when its driving force seems to be chaos. Is a game plan necessary when you've exceeded your expectations just by enjoying the ride?
About 10 years before my first King Gizzard show, the band were gearing up for their first-ever performance — but it was far from their first time making music together. As teens in the Melbourne suburb of Geelong, frontman Mackenzie, bassist Lucas Harwood and guitarist Cook Craig played in several pre-Gizzard groups, with Deniliquin-born drummer Michael "Cavs" Cavanagh joining by audition. Mackenzie met guitarist Joey Walker in university in Melbourne, and King Gizzard soon took shape. Multi-instrumentalist Ambrose Kenny-Smith — former bandmate of Harwood, now frontman of side-project the Murlocs alongside Craig on bass — joined after catching an early show, enthralled by their energy. Many wildly prolific years later, it's their camaraderie that has kept the band tight.
On their latest barnburner, Flight b741 (out August 9), it seems that King Gizzard have finally let themselves bask in their hard-earned success without losing any momentum. Harkening back to '70s country rock, it soars and swoops between the highs and lows of hog-wild hedonism, using some truly bonkers imagery of crashing planes and pigs that fly to chronicle their life on the road. It makes sense the album arrives days before their fall North American tour.
"It definitely is a North American phenomenon," says Mackenzie of the band's loyal following. "It's been really amazing for us to witness it play out in real time over the years. We were never a band who were trying to tap into something like that. We didn't grow up with any form of jam band culture around us in Australia, and that notion of catching a band multiple times was very unusual. I suppose maybe a superfan would do it, but you wouldn't expect different sets."
The musicians have a sense of culture shock about the community that now surrounds them. "It's definitely very overwhelming when we go to America now. Sometimes I forget, and then I'll be caught off guard in a supermarket before the show," says Kenny-Smith over Zoom from his home in Melbourne. The band's fan base continues to grow in both number and intensity, and a largely peaceful community can quickly pivot to unwanted competition if chances at a front-row spot or limited-edition merch feel threatened.
But this element of fan culture isn't unique to King Gizzard — it surrounds many artists of comparable size, its magnitude intensified post-lockdowns, as the loss of live music made its return more precious. In the end, it's all for the music — the intensity around it a testament to its importance.
While King Gizzard have grown rapidly, that hasn't prevented the members from pursuing other projects — it's just made the balance more delicate. "It's a struggle to get in energy and focus," says Kenny-Smith of the Murlocs, who have also grown in popularity. "Once it gets momentum, it has to stop and go back to Gizzard. I've always kept it going on the side because I get those extra kicks of creativity out of it and those guys. It's not as intense, and there's not as much attached to it, so it's a nice change and a walk in the park in some senses. I'm quite proud of myself for keeping both things juggled for 13 years."
And he should be: Murlocs tours are infrequent and often tacked on to the end of King Gizzard's massive tours, giving Kenny-Smith and Craig more weeks on the road, but not necessarily a break for the others.
"Albums will be made with whoever is around," says Kenny-Smith. "It seems like whenever Murlocs tour, the guys will go and make a metal album." (Why metal? We joke that it's because the softies aren't there.)
King Gizzard's endless creativity isn't kept to themselves; it spills far beyond their music, inspiring artists of every sort into offshoot work. "In some ways, it's the most remarkable and significant part of the whole thing," shares Mackenzie in awe. "Seeing that become its own ecosystem is insane. We've always tried to find that sweet spot of trying to genuinely be influenced by that: trying to be part of it, not separate from it, just encourage it all to be one. It's inspiring and the kind of thing that keeps us going. It's a little feedback loop — it's beautiful!"
His words hold true: my first photo pit experience was for King Gizzard, and, months later, my pipe dream of photographing Red Rocks became reality. I had shivers peeking up from stage level at 10,000 fans above me, and deep gratitude to the band for this place in their artistic orbit for a moment.
King Gizzard's artistic world is already multimedia as it is, with Jason Galea's album art, live visuals and tour posters as intrinsic to the band as their music is.
"Jason's the best — full stop!" beams Kenny-Smith, recounting a tight friendship that started when they were teenagers and now finds them skateboarding around the world during downtime on tour. "We've seen many cities in different ways than how others in the band and crew have seen them. He's over the moon and still pinches himself that he's able to draw whatever the hell he wants. Nobody makes him change anything."
Though Mackenzie is undeniably King Gizzard's lead creative force, he holds no power over his bandmates, who've all become multi-instrumentalists on stage and in the studio.
"Stu has always been open to letting anyone throw in their two cents," says Kenny-Smith. "He's one of the best musicians around, so it can be intimidating, but he's so warm and welcoming. As our friendship grows into a big brotherhood, it makes everything easier. It keeps me productive and without any chips on my shoulder, or a voice in my head telling me I suck — because there's a guy telling me I don't suck as much!"
While the band have grown more collaborative and have always been defined by their eccentric, livewire energy, their freak flag has rarely soared as high as on Flight b741.
"A lot of the time, how the next record sounds has to do with the way we feel," Mackenzie explains — so clearly, King Gizzard are feeling pretty great. "The last handful of releases had a lot of deeper, more serious topics — more conceptual records that required a lot of planning. I'm so up for that, but it was time to do something that felt more instinctual and free. Those records were kind of stressful to make; this one's pure dopamine in the studio."
As evident by their eclectic discography, King Gizzard's collective music taste is pretty broad, enabling their customary genre-hopping, and granting breadth within each exploration. But sometimes, it's clear when an album is right up someone's alley. "It was refreshing to know that Stu wanted to go back to basics and do three-to-four-minute songs" says Kenny-Smith, whose flair is blues and country. "That's all I wanna do: that straight-to-the-point, simpler-the-better, put-forward-with-heart-and-soul kind of music. But they're never gonna be too normal!"
Flight b741 dives into classic rock, but it might be the most comprehensively King Gizzard album yet: its inspiration is their own musical joyride, and their exuberance feels intuitive. "When you look at what's playing in the green room before the show, it's more often than not this kind of music," says Mackenzie. "We talked about some influences, but not a huge amount. With this one, we just went in without preconceived notions, played together, and this was what naturally came out."
Even 26 albums in, it's never quite that easy. Whether King Gizzard are honouring their heroes or aiming to join their ranks, having the gumption to try says a lot.
"It was hectic in the sense that we didn't really have any ideas," says Kenny-Smith, who attributes the album's "big, raw party in a ranch" energy to its lawlessness, which also made recording a challenge. The full band gathered to record harmonized backing vocals and a day's work turned into weeks, Mackenzie realizing, "We actually needed to choreograph the whole album," positioning everyone carefully to get the proper volume and balance. Some of those vocals include debuts from Cavanagh ("He needs to do audiobooks!" laughs Kenny-Smith) and Harwood, plus some impressive pig snorts. "I've gotta encourage everyone to bring out their inner swine," says Kenny-Smith. They were in hog heaven.
Flight b741 is bound to become even more unhinged live, where the looseness of their frenzied garage punk roots has unfurled into winding jams. It's contentious whether King Gizzard have become a jam band or simply a band that jams, or if they've morphed into either at all.
At their onset, they played different sets every night because they didn't want to practice; now, they meticulously plan vastly different sets to cover their massive catalogue, still sounding effortlessly loose. As for practicing? It's more necessary than ever: Harwood has shared some endearing Instagram Stories thanking YouTube tutorials, or revealing that his own songs appeared in his Spotify Wrapped.
"I like being a performer, but when you get out of playing the same set every night, you activate a different part of the brain," says Mackenzie. "Not better, just different. You feel more like a musician than a performer, and that's the part of my brain that feels more in line with what I want to do with music."
With so much music, it seems natural that King Gizzard would progress this way, but Mackenzie credits this to his tour-following fans. "I think they started to see something in us that we didn't see," he explains. "It's taken us to a place we never expected to go, and challenged us in new and exciting ways." That feedback loop in action, once again.
By taking 2014's "The River" down different streams, or detouring a microtonal track into teases of others, the band and fans stay invigorated — a necessity when both have a long run of shows ahead.
"It's much easier to do different things instead of trying to top something you've already done," says Mackenzie of the band's zig-zagging discography. "I think the goal is to create, and it should end there, rather than to create with any form of comparison in mind. If you're constantly trying to do something different, then whatever you do is fine, since you've deliberately put yourself in a place where you don't have to compare it to anything else you've done."
While King Gizzard's genre-hopping can seem zany — or gimmicky, to a cynic — it's emblematic of a deep love of music, as they dive into all its forms with curiosity and care. Admiring the band's timeline goes hand in hand with nostalgia for different periods, so I ask if they feel the same. "I think I've grown to respect the eras," says Mackenzie, who feels nostalgic, but sees each album as a product of its time of creation. Recording I'm in Your Mind Fuzz (2014) and Quarters! (2015) in Upstate New York was a "beautiful, picturesque period" to Kenny-Smith. "We'd play Brooklyn once a week, record in the basement, get bagels at the supermarket, and go for walks," he says. "All that stuff felt so wide-eyed, being near New York in our early 20s."
Those sessions marked King Gizzard's first time in North America, and, in a few weeks, they'll make their umpteenth return, bringing their past to a point beyond their imagination. "Being able to incorporate songs from more than a decade ago is really cool," says Mackenzie, who feels there's still much more to revisit. "If we stopped making music after this record — which of course, we wouldn't — we could fill the rest of our lives with tours that feel different. There'd be songs in the back catalogue we've forgotten about to come back to a long time after they were written."
For now, King Gizzard are moving forward the way they always have: revelling in the current moment and seeing where it takes them, amazement at each unexpected turn. "It's the best job in the world," says Kenny-Smith, with deep sincerity. "All the guys are super supportive of what everyone does. It's a great infrastructure we have going."
What really pulled me into King Gizzard's world six years ago — and around the world on their tour — was the adrenaline driving their eccentricity and freedom: in their music, the live show, and the passion required to make it all happen. This ethos is laid bare on Flight b741 track "Le Risque," as Mackenzie sings that "this world, it spins too slow / Its tempo paints my world in grey / My heart cannot beat fast enough / The risk is technicolour paint."
"Sometimes it's good to stop and think, 'Actually, what is the game plan?'" laughs Mackenzie. "Honestly, I think the game plan is to keep the train on the tracks. If we're doing that, then we're winning. All these crazy things that happen — they don't happen because you set a goal five years ago. It's because you keep putting pen to paper, and if you stay on the tracks, you'll eventually end up somewhere. Even though we've been so fortunate to build this career for ourselves in the music business, it feels like you're constantly about to be derailed. I'm terrified of having a normal job."
Kenny-Smith says with a laugh, "I guess that's why we keep making albums — to stay relevant!"
The arrival of a new King Gizzard album begs the obvious question: what's next? But I hesitate to ask. On Flight b741, they seem too at ease to be pushed into the next thing — plus, they've earned their own celebration. Instead, I choose another obvious remark: that I can't wait to see them at the next show.
"North America is so vast, and just a place I love touring," says Mackenzie with wonder. "It's the best! I'm very glad to have played a small part in facilitating you getting out and seeing the world in all its colours."