Last summer, King Gizzard & the Lizard Wizard ditched the thrash metal mannerisms and electro experiments of their recent output in favour of the blues rock-tinged Flight b741. The semi-concept album followed a plane headed for disaster, ultimately crashing during its bustling finale. A mere three months later, Stu Mackenzie and co. surprise dropped the orchestra-backed single Phantom Island, subsequently revealing that they had recorded a follow-up to Flight b741 with the addition of a 24-piece orchestra led by Chad Kelly (overdubbed at a later date). This continuation of the b741 story (aptly titled Phantom Island) drops on 13 June, with a string of live orchestra shows slated for the rest of the year. But how does it measure up to its predecessor?
The album kicks off with the previously released title track, a five minute epic that completely shifts gears following the blues-heavy Flight b741. Its swirling orchestral intro, subtle percussive grooves and punchy brass passages set the tone for what’s to come, but only briefly. Eagle-eared fans will notice that Phantom Island structurally mirrors b741 opener Mirage City, while also sharing identical harmonic passages (which this Redditor picked up on). Phantom Island sees the band once again divide vocal duties among one another, while building up to a raucous closing section. Second single Deadstick maintains the energy of Phantom Island’s ending, never straying from its high tempo and allowing brass to take the lead alongside standout vocals from Joey Walker and Ambrose Kenny-Smith. As it all comes together towards the end, you’d be forgiven for thinking this was King Gizzard & the E-Street Band. For those unaware, deadstick refers to a type of landing made by planes with no power. Remind you of anything?
The one-two of Phantom Island and Deadstick sets the album up in such a way that what happens next is anyone’s guess. On Lonely Cosmos, we’re catapulted into space as a flurry of strings dance like stars across the galaxy. A lone violin accompanies Mackenzie as he sings about loneliness, this loneliness amplified by the solemn instrumental backing. Kenny-Smith questions if “we’re alone in this cosmic effigy” as proggier guitar lines and a pensive chorus intertwine. Select passages on Lonely Cosmos would not sound out of place on cult favourite album Polygondwanaland (2017). Chad Kelly’s orchestral arrangements on Lonely Cosmos are among the best on the entire album, the strings in particular noteworthy. Our journey through space continues on Eternal Return, which fuses gliding violins and psych-pop by way of quirky, funky verses. There are some interesting vocal deliveries scattered throughout, although it’s a bluesy verse from Cook Craig which stands out the most. “Which way is the right way down the yellow brick road of life” he asks among a mix of ad libbed backing vocals and one lone, sexy saxophone. Eternal Return is the yang to Lonely Cosmos’ yin, lyrically and musically.
Panpsych maintains the positive energy, while injecting some verve back into proceedings. It’s the closest the band come to replicating the sound they presented on Flight b741, which is particularly thanks to omnipresent and effortlessly swaggering guitar lines. Joey Walker stands out here, having absolutely stepped up with his vocal delivery compared to previous records. On an album where so much is happening at once, Walker always manages to stand out one way or another. The same can be said for guitarist Craig, a man whose role in the band is often underappreciated but this time round gets plenty of time to shine. The orchestral elements are more understated on Panpsych, limited to a flurry of woodwind and flourishes of brass. For those curious, the concept of Panpsychism is the “view that mentality is fundamental and ubiquitous in the natural world” (as per Stanford University). This is reflected in the song’s lyrics, when Mackenzie states that in “every grain of sand there holds a mind which can expand from now until the next big bang”. Panpsych’s hopeful optimism marks the halfway point on Phantom Island, its quest for zen making way for another bout of homesickness on Spacesick. We’re flung further into outer space thanks to a sombre french horn, dreamy strings and a soaring chorus, where it becomes even more evident that outer space really is a metaphor for touring and the sheer loneliness musicians feel when they’re on the road for weeks at a time. It’s a topic the band have covered before, and through the metaphor of outer space it paints a vivid picture.
It’s not until track seven that we meet Phantom Island’s best song, the absolutely fantastic Aerodynamic. It’s laced in 70s dream pop and soft rock, the woodwind and brass pairing up to create an almost dreamlike backing to Kenny-Smith and Mackenzie, who trade off vocals with pensive musings and catchy refrains. It’s hard to put exactly into words just how beautiful Aerodynamic is, but perhaps this line from Mackenzie will help: “I have always wondered if I could step out of my body, would I be a fish out of water or like a school in harmony?” – one of life’s big questions, right? Sea of Doubt leads us right back into the sonic landscapes that thrived on Flight b741, touching on Harry Chapin and Chicago at times while sticking to what is starting to become a tried and tested King Gizzard formula: alternating lead vocals, catchy old school melodies and vivid lyrics. There’s a contribution from Sam Joseph on pedal steel here (the second of three from him this time round), one of the band’s live crew members. It’s one of the more by-numbers songs on the album, pretty much ticking all the required boxes but falling short of its full potential. It’s the only song on Phantom Island which feels like it could have benefitted from some more experimentation, but alas.
Silent Spirit’s opening minute veers dangerously close into yacht rock territory, before changing tack just as things were about to get a little too Steely Dan (which is not an issue at all – King Gizzard would comfortably nail yacht rock). The following three and a half minutes start off in blues rock territory, slowly becoming proggier and muddier as the band descend into a sonic equivalent of the Sahara Desert. Accompanying brass adds an extra layer of mystique to proceedings as distorted guitars duel with grandiose strings. The line between 70s soft rock and fuzzed out desert soundscapes is incredibly fine, but ultimately balanced out just right.
This all leads into album closer Grow Wings and Fly, a song which diehard King Gizzard fans will already have been familiar with before it was released as the third single. Its roots lie in the live version of synth-heavy fan favourite Shanghai (2021), with an improvised full band outro slowly but surely evolving into a whole new song. It wasn’t until last November’s US tour that Grow Wings and Fly became an entity of its own, shedding the sonic cocoon of Shanghai and appearing on setlists with a new name. Not much has changed since then musically, save for the addition of an orchestra. It ends the album on a positive note, with Mackenzie singing about love at first sight and wanting to go the extra mile for everything in life. He may have been homesick in outer space on Spacesick, but Grow Wings and Fly has Mackenzie reclaiming the feeling that life really is worth living if you dare to spread your wings.
On paper, Phantom Island serves as a companion piece and conceptual follow-up to last year’s Flight b741, but in reality it is that and so much more. The addition of an orchestra is incredibly risky, but the payoff is so very much worth it. Not many bands can dip their toes in so many different genres and pull it off (nearly) every time, but then again King Gizzard & the Lizard Wizard are a whole different monster. Chad Kelly’s orchestral arrangements help elevate the songs to a new dimension, whether it be Deadstick’s hypercharged rock’n’roll, Lonely Cosmos’ haunting string sections, or the frequent flourishes of saxophone, trombone and french horn. There are moments which could have been constructed better (such as Sea of Doubt), but on the whole Phantom Island is – yet again (it feels like déjà vu at this point) – a brilliant offering filled with optimism, doubt, love, friendship and some of life’s big questions. Phantom Island is out 13 June via p(doom) Records.
8/10
