King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard at Gorilla review

Image: King Gizzard and The Lizard Wizard

Imagine licking the back of a psychoactive toad and being sucked into a hyper-speed vortex towards a state of mind not to dissimilar from Johny Depp in a Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. That's what a King Gizzard and The Lizard Wizard performance feels like, only not on acid, unless you happened to be, then that's a whole different story.

Somewhat of a rarity in the UK, King Gizzard are a seven piece Australian psych band hinged on the exploration of mind-bending sonics. Extremely prolific in the studio, they've released an album or two a year since 2012, including a four track LP with each song lasting 10:10 and their most recent LP Paper Mache Dream Balloon. 

Sold out on the night, support arrived via abrasive psych-punk trio Yak - a band who've been racking up somewhat of a reputation themselves. Unfortunately they refrained from their notorious organ-smashing antics, but their set was equally frantic in distribution.

Winding up the set with a wall of distorted noise, front-man Oli Burslem and co drew the crowd with a bombardment of manic punk rhythms and lo-fi chords that could penetrate led. The set simmered and bubbled with 'Smile', clanked home with 'Plastic People' and reached peak mania with new hit 'Victorious (National Anthem).  

Pragmatically, the above alludes to the expectation of a reasonably younger crowd hitting up Gorilla's cavernous live space. A continuous feed of stage-diving anarchists were ever present throughout, but so were many older heads presumably intrigued by King Gizzard's appeal and live reputation. 

Led by flute-juggling front man Stu Mackenzie, who's equally adept at tilting his guitar upright, head banging and and working the fret, King Gizzard map out with two drummers and three guitarists on stage at one time.

Stamped with winding jams, clouds of distortion, unorthodox song structures, flute solos and synchronised psychedelic visuals that scaled crocodiles to hot air balloons, the Australian outfit heavily evidenced why they're one of the most raved about live bands in operation. 

The band's set reflected their evolution from scuzzy, distorted psych rock to their more recent experimentation with weirded out folky acoustics. The result was a night that took on many twists and turns with each drummers and guitarist engulfing the room by playing in unison rather than individually.  

Opening gambit 'Robot Stop' was more punk rock than acid trip, only with a harmonica solo, unhinged visuals, whirlwind vocals and a rhythmic jam that eventually filtered emphatically into 'Hot Water' via a flute swap 'n' drop.  

It's a brain sizzling concoction that's difficult to process, but King Gizzard don't create music that should be understood. Popular favourite 'Hot Wax' recalled flavours of the sixties, accentuated by a funked up clunking bass line and revolving vocal hook to achieve the closest sound to something you may have heard before.

Atleast in comparison to a band that blare out nuclear-psychotic rock to a hook hinged on watching 3D movies through cellophane or a 10 minute voyage The River which plays out like a cinematic slurp of acid. There's even a screwball hit titled 'Gamma Knife' which throws the entire band into one giant mid-set spasm.

Even a one-man encore from a lone Stu Mackenzie saw him serenade the crowd with a song about Vegemite. However outlandish that sounds, if the conspiracy prevails and we are in fact ruled by Lizards, then rock music would be a much more exhilarating void if it were to be overseen by King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard.   

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