The Tripped-Out, Magnetic Horror of King Gizzard & the Lizard Wizard
Aussie psych-rockers discuss their second record of 2017, Murder of the Universe.

Melbourne-based King Gizzard & the Lizard Wizard may look like hippies, but they aren’t seeing the world through rose-colored glasses. The prolific septet’s 10th album in the past six years, Murder of the Universe, is a three-chapter trek through a parallel dystopian universe, setting the bleak outlook of doom metal to an aggressive psychedelic swampiness that has been become something of a signature for King Gizzard. Murder has an ominous propulsion that leaves you feeling aghast and helpless, with two-minute sprints of charging drums and distortion that feel like a dilapidated truck carving through a bombed-out city with a cut brake line.
With its numberless allusions to a world gone off the rails and assured weaponization of technology, it would be easy to pigeonhole Murder of the Universe, which was released Friday, as an apocalyptic reaction to any recent political catastrophe—a category in which stacks of records that have come out since November have been dumped. But the fears that drive Stu Mackenzie, the group’s bandleader and primary architect, follow the longer trend of disregard for our impact on the Earth.
“You only have to be a rational person and look at the science of it to see that our chances of sticking around, on an evolutionary scale or any long period of time, are slim.”
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