The band share their 26th album.

Here we are. Album number 26. Twenty-six. Let that sink in. That’s more than The Beatles or Queen ever put out, tied with Bowie, and only five behind The Rolling Stones – and The Stones were formed more than sixty years ago. Yet, somehow, each of King Gizzard’s albums have their own rich sound – and more than their fair share of infectious anthems.

2024 marks the release of Flight b741, a decidedly more bluesy affair than the group’s previous work, particularly that of their latest endeavours (the thrashy PetroDragonic Apocalypse and electro-pop’s The Silver Chord). It’s got harmonica, guitar twang-a-plenty and a half dozen lead vocalists across its ten tracks.

The opener, Mirage City, is somewhere between swampy southern rock and Omnium Gatherum’s Persistence. Though teased at various shows on the group’s most recent tour, the studio version is as fresh as a patch of blooming wildflowers, buckling us in for the flight ahead. Then Antarctica, a lovably cryptic ode to the frosty landmass, wreathed in catchy, hip-hop beats and ice-cold licks.

But it’s not a Gizz-y album without the profound and existential, as evident in Raw Feel – a track on the difference of experience between person to person (“The same shit for me / Ain’t the same shit for you, woo!”). Field of Vision, meanwhile, is one of the six-piece’s best yet, combining Stones-y swagger with cryptic song-writing and maximum guitar fuzz.

Hog Calling Contest gives us the premise of the album’s title and artwork, drenched in piggy imagery and swine-related metaphors. Suddenly, we’re envisioning a whole rickety plane of them blasting off into the stratosphere; a concept you only really get in a KG record. Le Risque, the lead single, is as groovy a southern rocker as it was just a month ago.

The next two stops, Flight b741 itself and Sad Pilot, fulfil the quota for aeronautic terminology whilst letting Gizz dig their feet into the blues genre, cemented in Rats in the Sky – the bounciest, Greaseiest shuffle of the piece. Daily Blues; a seven-minute, southern-fried slice of the deep south, closes us out, complete with crunchy guitar and spit behind every punctuated line. 

Flight b741 deals with, crucially, the concept of being free; free from the judgment of others, material possessions and personal grudges. Yes, it talks about pigs taking off, and has more than a few references to Floyd – but, at its heart, it’s about enjoying life for what it is and forgetting the other stuff.

For those expecting an entirely bluesy affair, however, you may be in for a shock. While King Gizzard’s 26th studio album is more blues-infected than a lot of their other work, it falls short of 2017’s Fishing for Fishies, and more often than not complements its swampy, Louisiana blues with hip-hop beats and erratic time signatures. Once again, the mighty Gizz machine take a sound and make it entirely their own.

That’s not to say this large-scale avian escape of farmyard animals won’t make you feel like grabbing your nearest harmonica, though. The ‘70s blues rock influences are clear on Flight b741, peppered with Stones’ and Bad Company influences. You’ll click your fingers and bounce around as much as head bang or chew tobacco in time with the beats. Once again, Stu Mackenzie and his gang of immensely talented madmen have tinkered around in the musical laboratory, and come up with purest gold.

Flight b741 is out now via p(doom) records.

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