King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard – Phantom Island Review 

Risk is taken not just in the inevitable genre experimentation on this latest King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard album, but in storytelling. The continuity heard on Phantom Island has strong ties to an exceptional preceding album, Flight b741. Through this tie alone, the ever-evolving rock group suggest they can better themselves and the story laid out by their flying pigs. In following a narrative, a few subconscious limitations appear. King Gizzard strives for ambitious reimagining not just of genre, but of what a rock band can do. Symphonic efforts on Phantom Island sound as though they are afraid of breaking from the story, from the format imposed by a previous release. It means that for all Phantom Island’s wilder instrumentals, the brass backing fails to amplify the band’s sound. A struggle between observing the surviving piggy pilots and capturing, once more, the thrill of new sounds, comes to life.  

Catchy works like the title track and follow-up Deadstick proved strong in isolation, strong singles. But when mixed with the rest of the album, when they are tasked with holding up the narrative form of a location and crash, they feel a bit light, particularly Deadstick. King Gizzard has often been about the thrill of finding new sounds, of exploring often forgotten genres, and their symphonic rock album does exactly that. What remains impressive is what has always been solid for the band. Steady instrumental work, a strong vocal blur with those adventurous sounds, but here, it takes on the form of a radio drama. Lonely Cosmos has this feeling most of all, a song which feels more like a lengthy transition than anything of real beauty. King Gizzard are toying with the storytelling here rather than the form of their sound. It’s all breezy, and songs like Panpsych feel more like an instrumental thrill than anything that advances the story Phantom Island is so keen to focus on. 

Those lighter moments are what offer that consistently playful part of King Gizzard. It works well for Spacesick, a beautiful piece of work where the orchestra are given a chance to push themselves, to match the instrumental freedom of the band. A string section collective is hard pressed to find the same floatiness, the lighter touch of improvisation, and yet it blurs well with the King Gizzard form. Aerodynamic remains a highlight of Phantom Island, a touching piece of changing with the times. Those frustrations of pushing and pulling at the core of yourself, in moulding this part or that of your life to conform, are heard through the latter half. It is a message which comes from the blue, out of nowhere as the flight path had not accounted for this slow turn towards brass and soft jazz.  

Silent Spirit offers exactly that, though. A late transformation which could, we can hope, hint at the future of the band. Phantom Island continues the easy-going charm of the preceding album, builds on a story which was never quite clear, but the band are clearly having fun with their swine pilots. Fly away from the expectations of life, that much is easy to do by being defiant and ignorant of what people want. King Gizzard continues to push their sound in surprising directions, not because it keeps them relevant and exciting, but because they know, as much as their most dedicated listeners, that there is much fun to be had in the exploration of genre. We learn nothing from staying static. Even if the changes which come shift the very form of our person, at least it is changed with the impressions of new experience, not the slow, sluggish crawl to the finish line through a plain route many people are on.