When a band has 26 studio albums (and counting) and plays a completely different setlist each night on tour, you never quite know what you’re going to get. At King Gizzard & the Lizard Wizard’s visit to the Armory on Tuesday night, the Australia-based group unleashed an amalgam of surfer rock, metal-infused psychedelia, pop, jazz, funk, and electro-blues music — resulting in a two-and-a-half-hour continuous show full of colorful looping animations and occasional mosh pits. 

King Gizzard shows cater to superfans eager for anything in the catalog. You might hear dystopian ragers and trash metal from Infest the Rats’ Nest. Or, laid-back, acoustic, psychedelic folk from Paper Mâché Dream Balloon. Maybe some boogie and blues rock from Fishing for Fishies. Along with the band's most recent album, Flightb741, full of feel-good ‘60 and ‘70s-style American rock ‘n roll, they played songs from a dozen different albums.

The six-piece consists of Stu Mackenzie (guitar, lead vocals), Ambrose Kenny Smith (keys, harmonics, synthesizers, vocals), Joey Walker (guitar, vocals), Michael Cavanagh (drums), Lucas Harwood (bass), and Cook Craig (bass, keys, vocals). 

They pull it all together in a dizzying fashion by morphing each song into the next, blending motifs of different songs together during extended jams. The band reused the refrain from “Hypertension,” a song midway through the set, on “Am I In Heaven?” near the end of the show. But they also teased “Am I In Heaven?” during “Cellophane” near the beginning. All that to say, it takes significant talent to maintain that level of synergy for an entire show. 

Many wonder: “Is King Gizzard a “jam band?” Earlier in their career, most songs played live were rehearsed to be true to the studio tracks, but the band has increased improvisation over the years to keep songs fresh and unexpected. All shows on the tour stream on YouTube, and in the rapidly moving live chat section, “Not a jam band” appears repeatedly. Many loyal fans disapprove of the “jam band” label and its association with jam icons, Vermont psych-rockers Phish. Whether you call it “jamming” or something else, King Gizzard used each song on Tuesday as a jumping-off point without a predictable outcome and created a unique experience for fans.

Perhaps one of the most unpredictable aspects of the night was a 40-minute collaborative DJ session that moved from a slower ambient to techno-rave music. Mackenzie, Smith, Walker, Harwood, and Craig centered around an electronic synthesizer table to play improvisational jams of “Theia” and “The Silver Cord” from last year’s electronic album, The Silver Cord. A stomping bass beat was prominent for the first time all evening as Cavanagh drummed along with the others’ bips and bops. Or maybe it was the other way around. With heads down in concentration, the musicians seemed to be in their own worlds. Mackenzie’s vocals were tuned so high that words were unintelligible and alien-like. A book sat in the middle of the table as if they were calling an unearthly being in a spiritual ritual. Soon enough, the band transitioned into “The Grim Reaper,” when Smith rapped to Mackenzie’s flute. 

Because of the show’s continuity, there was not a lot of time for talking, except when the band first took the stage and Walker asked, “Is there a rivalry between Minneapolis and St. Paul?” None of the bandmates had an answer, but one did mention they once played at “Prince’s Place,” which may have been a reference to their shows at Palace Theatre in 2022, or 7th St. Entry in 2015. 

King Gizzard and their fans’ energy climaxed near the end of the night when the band uncaged the hardest-hitting, mosh-inducing tracks. Blaring guitars on “Supercell” and “Motor Spirit” helped the crowd cultivate its own synergy and create a large circle pit. Mackenzie frantically cranked his whammy bar to the scuzzy tunes and propped his guitar on top of his head to amp up the already rowdy energy. 

To preface the inevitable energy, a message on screen before the show said: “As the weirdo swarm grows, we have to work hard to keep our community inclusive. The mosh pit is a safe place for young, old, big, small and ppl of all genders. If you see any d*ckheads, alert security. Look after each other in there and BE YOURSELF.” 

King Gizzard’s transfixing live blend of aggression and transcendence is the band members being experiential, a little goofy, and ultimately, their own selves. They tap into anger in a way that feels nourishing, but also looks inward to reconstruct studio recordings into real life. They take their musicianship seriously, but also give off a “couldn’t care less” mood. Every time you think you have them cornered, they mutate. 

In King Gizzard fashion, Brooklyn-based opener Geese, took some risks. The band’s sophomore album, 3D Country, was released last year. It departed from the post-punk sound of their debut, Projector, to move toward shape-shifting blues-rock. Lead singer Cameron Winter projected yowls and an almost Elvis-like voice. He also spoke to the audience in a (seemingly fake?) Southern accent. Also like the headliner, Geese’s music can be expansive and unpredictable; songs with smoldering guitar riffs, like “2122” often ended with turbulent distortions and flashing lights to match. “Cowboy Nudes” and “I See Myself” from the most recent release added lightheartedness. In the former, Winter sang, “Be my warrior! / Just you and I / Be my warrior! / And I'll be alright” in upbeat optimism, and in the latter, he passionately insisted, “I see myself in you,” again and again. For a band that met in high school a few years ago, Geese is quite promising, and their opening set was a great addition to the night’s line-up. 

King Gizzard & The Lizard Wizard

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Setlist:

Pleura

O.N.E.

Nuclear Fusion

The Reticent Raconteur

The Lord of Lightning

Cellophane

Mystery Jack

Antarctica

Ambergris

Hypertension

Flight b741

Le Risque

Theia

The Silver Cord

The Grim Reaper

Magenta Mountain

Plastic Boogie

This Thing

Am I in Heaven?

Supercell

Motor Spirit