Concert review: King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard | 09.05.24, The Factory (with photo gallery)

Photo of Stu MacKenzie of King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard by Bryan J. Sutter

I usually start these things out with some sort of jab at St. Louis, or a barely restrained bit of damning with faint praise. Something that implies that St. Louis marches to the beat of its own drum, even though it is often to its own detriment. Or that we’re rarely on trend, and often comically far behind even though it isn’t the ’90s anymore and we all have access to the same Internet as everyone else. If there is something the average St. Louisan loves more than baseball, thin crust pizza with weird fake cheese, and pork steak, it is letting bands know that we don’t know who they are and perhaps even don’t care.

With over 25 studio albums to their name and an incredibly devoted fanbase akin to that of The Grateful Dead, King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard have been making quite a mark in the music world since their formation in 2010. The Aussie six-piece are known for their adventurous genre-bending tunes and engaging live shows, where no two consecutive nights share a single song. They’ve become a must-see band for certain music nerds, and I probably fall right into that camp.

After grabbing my credentials at the box office and hopping in line, I commented to a young man behind me that I was surprised to see so many people here at The Factory so soon after doors. He was both equally curious and confused by my statement, telling me that he drove all the way from Atlanta for this show and that he was fairly certain it had sold out. I explained that St. Louis isn’t always on the same frequency as everyone else when it comes to music, but it bodes well if a show like this had sold out. Inside the venue, I made my way to the front of the stage and found myself making small talk with a few folks who were very excited about tonight, not realizing that we had become part of the line for the merch table. Yes, the line for merch literally stretched from the lobby to the stage barricade. For those who have not been to the Factory, I’ve been told by the staff that the dance floor can hold something like 3000 people.

I will admit I was not particularly excited for the evening’s opener, NYC rockers Geese. I recently gave their latest record, 2023’s 3D Cowboy,a listen while on a short drive and by the time I reached my destination I was starting to chew on the inside of my cheek and was very close to breaking out in a sweat. I cannot think of the last time I had such a negative physical reaction to any sort of stimuli. As The Arts STL’s resident shit talker, trust that I could go on, but a funny thing happened: I actually really enjoyed Geese as a live band. I thought they sounded great and had a good vibe. The crowd even gave them a particularly warm reception. I did not feel like I was being waterboarded or like I had to vote for the lesser of two evils. At all.

Music is cool like that sometimes, I guess.

King Gizzard started off the night with “Mars for the Rich” off of Infest the Rats Nest, an impressive piece of stadium-sized heavy rock. From the first few songs, I was all in. This was cool, interesting, and the crowd was fully engaged. In the photo pit, it was something to be between the band and the crowd, to feel the energy on both sides, this was special. I have heard people dismiss KGLW as being too goofy or too much like a jam band, but I think those people haven’t given the band a fair shake. There is definitely a sense of humor on display in most of the band’s output, but also backed by some serious musicianship, not unlike the work of Frank Zappa. The band does not partake in the masturbatory or self-indulgent elements that make jam bands painful to witness. There were moments where a motif was expanded or there was some improvisation around a song’s structure, but none of it went or for too long or was boring. If anything, it expressed just how tight and creative King Gizzard is in a live setting.

The band takes documentation of their shows seriously, as photographers were allowed to shoot their whole set and there was a video crew live-streaming the performance on YouTube. They also release “official bootlegs” of the audio from their live shows for their fans to enjoy. In an era where many bands seem to try to have as much control as possible of their image and how their music is disseminated and interacted with, this comes off as surprisingly refreshing. It felt more like I was watching and photographing an example of artist expression than a product that was forced into its final form by a marketing team or some other cynical entity.

While the first half of the set was mostly Gizzard’s heavier material, there was a break from the chugging guitars and guttural vocals as a table full of synths, effects pedals, and drum machines was wheeled out on the stage. Here, the band dipped into their more electronic stuff, playing bangers “Shanghai” and “Gondii.” It was the first major shift in vibe this far in the evening, and it was a welcomed contrast to see a different side of the group.

The latter half of the performance brought in some choice cuts from their latest record, Flight b741. In particular, the performance of “Sad Pilot” stood as one of the night’s strongest highlights. Joey Walker put his whole ass into singing, and the rest of the band just locked in behind his lead. Flight b741 is perhaps the closest thing the band may ever release to a party record, the sort of thing you’d invite your friends over to listen to while decimating a suitcase of domestic beer and bullshitting. The vibe during these songs was fantastic, and made me wish I had a cold can in my hand. The band was loosening up a bit here, giving way to a playful energy on stage. To move so seamlessly between genres was incredibly impressive and the band ended their nearly two-and-a-half-hour set with “People-Vultures,” a monstrous song that blurs the line between psych and prog rock. It was a truly balls-to-the-walls moment, the crowd bringing their last bit of high energy to match the band.

And then the song was over, the house lights came on. It took a moment for everyone, including myself, the security staff, and the crowd to realize that the show was over. I stood there taking in what I had just experienced, which I would put on the same level as witnessing Swans or Boris live, and walked outside into the humid evening. I felt a little lost, a little exhausted, and a bit out of my body. That was until I found myself spending the better part of an hour trying to get out of the parking lot, it was then I was back to mundane reality. | Bryan J. Sutter