Number 4 - Nonagon Infinity by King Gizzard & the Lizard Wizard

 Number 4: Nonagon Infinity by King Gizzard & the Lizard Wizard

Nonagon infinity opens the door

Release: April 29th, 2016
Genre: Progressive Rock
Favorite Tracks: Mr. Beat, Gamma Knife, Robot Stop

 

Where I heard it: 

Growing up, my musical affinity mainly revolved around material that was made decades ago. One unforeseen consequence of my outdated tastes was that many of the groups I loved most were either defunct, or well past their prime for touring. That didn't stop me from making the most of what I had, but I had a realization during the pandemic that current music was not, in fact, the demon spawn of Satan, and there was plenty to discover among active modern groups. Nearing the end of lockdown restrictions, I grew closer with a friend of mine named Aspen, who I bonded with through the absence of a mutual friend during his tenure in the military. Music was a regular point of conversation between us, and around the spring of 2021, they asked me if I had ever heard of the band King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard. The name alone caught my attention, and Aspen was persistent that I give them a try. I headed to Spotify to peruse the top songs from King Gizz, starting with their most popular: Work This Time off Oddments. My first impressions were a bit underwhelming, considering the excitement of which Aspen had recommended this band to me with. After listening through Oddments, I jumped over to their 2015 album Quarters!, which piqued my interest in King Gizz significantly more than my previous endeavor. It was around this time where I made the same realization many newcomers have encountered in their fandom: these guys have a lot of albums. By mid 2021, the King Gizz discography was just short of twenty entries. There were periods where they would release five albums over the course of a single year, an unprecedented pace that boggled my brain. Realizing what I had gotten myself into, I understood the daunting task ahead of me: I had plenty of catching up to do. My third foray with King Gizz, I'm In Your Mind Fuzz, was when things finally started to click for me. This album was the bait that snagged me hook, line, and sinker into the wild world of the weirdo swarm, a vast and mystifying realm that still felt ripe for the plundering. I immediately sought out connection with the King Gizz community, heading over to the subreddit to further educate myself in my newfound knowledge. Having most recently heard I'm In Your Mind Fuzz, the unanimous opinion according to the official King Gizz flow chart was to continue on to the album Nonagon Infinity, which expanded upon many of the ideas introduced in its predecessor. Needing little persuasion, I dove head-first into Nonagon Infinity, and as far as I can tell, I've never hit the bottom. I could write you an entire essay on just about any of the now twenty-six albums King Gizz had made, but from a conceptual perspective, Nonagon Infinity is one of the most innovative and groundbreaking pieces of music to be released in the 21st century. Come along with me as we take this adventure together; it's one I never get tired of trekking through.

My body's overworked
It's just the same I know
When can my body work
Cold static overload?
My body works I know
It's just the same I know
My only difference
Is robot influence
I'm up here for the weirdo swarm
I'm the door when you come for more
~ Robot Stop

What to expect:

When it comes to expectations for King Gizzard & the Lizard Wizard, it's best to check them at the door. Any description of King Gizz isn't one-size-fits-all, given the expansive and frankly astounding range of genres that the band has covered. Each album is a new opportunity for this prolifically talented band to experiment with a different sound or concept. Craving acoustic indie-folk music to chill to? Try out Paper Mâché Dream Balloon. Looking for something heavier with thrash metal inspiration? Give Infest the Rats' Nest a listen. How about something more electronic and synthesized? Butterfly 3000 has you covered. If there were any group that truly caters to all tastes, King Gizz is certainly it. This brings us to Nonagon Infinity, an earlier album of theirs that houses a familiar garage rock sound the band commonly revisits, but with a few quirks to set it apart among other installments. From a musical standpoint, Nonagon Infinity is a high-energy thrill ride that comes strong out of the gate and seldomly pauses to catch its breath. While they have no true frontman, multi-instrumentalist Stu Mackenzie stands out among the group as a qualified candidate for this position. Providing all the vocals for the album, Stu gets the ball rolling on Robot Stop with his trademark 'woo's and shrill microtonal guitar riffs. "Amby" Kenny-Smith injects another healthy dose of charisma to the band's wacky persona, assuming responsibilities on the keyboards while occasionally ripping soulful harmonica solos during Robot Stop and Gamma Knife. Additional guitarists Joey Walker and "Cookie" Craig act more as a jack-of-all-trades, adding to the chaotic frenzy of strings while filling in on supporting synthesizer in tracks like Evil Death Roll. Rounded out by the resonant bass tones of Lucas Skinner and the clamorous drumming of Michael "Cav" Cavanagh, Nonagon Infinity is intentionally muddled with an incredibly low fidelity filter in an attempt to soften the sheer gusto and intensity of the overall performance. You'll notice early on that King Gizz has a noticeable aversion to common time signatures, a trait that not only persists throughout Nonagon Infinity, but indeed the greater collective of King Gizz albums. These guys aren't afraid to venture off into more complex territory, jamming out seldomly used beat patterns like 7/4 in Robot Stop, 9/4 in Big Fig Wasp, and 3/4 in Gamma Knife. Surprisingly, none of these grooves feel forced together, perfectly merged into a mathematic wonderland that carefully links each phrase. Speaking of which, Nonagon Infinity faithfully preserves each song transition to run into the next, effectively making each track a piece of a larger conglomerate suite. Colloquially known as the Nonagon suite, the five tracks between Robot Stop and Mr. Beat all seamlessly run together before a brief rest in the action, resuming between Evil Death Roll and Road Train. This formula allows the members of King Gizz to exhaust nearly every possibility of this parallel jam session, effortlessly switching between musical motifs that creatively differ, but share the same soul. Nonagon Infinity actually takes this concept a step further in a way that I've never seen any other album do: the transition between the closing track Road Train and the intro Robot Stop is also uninterrupted. In essence, this means that Nonagon Infinity has no real ending or beginning - it's a constant loop that persists within the confines of its microcosm. I'll elaborate further on that detail in the next section, because that choice is such a huge reason why I fell in love with this album to begin with. All I'll say is this: make sure you click repeat on when listening to Nonagon Infinity...and make sure you're paying attention. 

 

Twenty-six gears of petrol power
Keep on trucking hour by hour
One man is at the wheel
He's the dog at Satan's heel
Across the desert to the trees
Obliteration of the place
From the fire into the sea
Nonagon infinity is coming
~ Road Train

  

Why it's my favorite: 

In only three short years, I went from, "Who the hell is King Gizzard & the Lizard Wizard?", to "Wow, King Gizz is the shit!". There's so many qualities that make Gizz such a loveable band, from their charming Aussie dialect to their palpable love for the material they create. Other selections such as the recent PetroDragonic Apocalypse and the aforementioned I'm In Your Mind Fuzz came very close to snagging this spot, but ultimately Nonagon Infinity is still King Gizz' magnum opus to me. Its reprisal of key verses tells a narrative through the music, not necessarily through its lyrics. There's even allusions to riffs that appeared in previous releases, specifically the shared hook between Robot Stop, Hot Water from I'm In Your Mind Fuzz, and Cold Cadaver off Paper Mâché Dream Balloon. The concept of interconnectivity, each song bearing relation and dependence to one another, an infinite loop that creates an overarching meta...that's the good stuff, man. It's a stroke of genius that I can't even begin to comprehend its engineering. It seems like only once every generation does a band come along to not only revolutionize the landscape of the music industry, but culturally impact a fanbase to the point of madness and infatuation. The best example of this phenomenon would be the Grateful Dead, a jam band that cultivated an entire subculture of nomadic fans, of which my mom and dad were both a part of. More recently, Phish fans have earned a reputation for their incredible passion and devotion for live shows. Nowadays, it really feels like King Gizzard & the Lizard Wizard are gaining traction, setting them up to be the next epic band with an unwavering following. My first live experience of King Gizz came during their legendary Red Rocks residency in 2022, of which I was lucky to pick up a ticket to their newly added third show. I knew how good they were in the studio, but was nowhere prepared for the technical display they'd put on that night. I sat in pure awe watching them do their thing, silently losing my mind that I was in attendance for this spectacle. I've seen Gizz twice more since then at Red Rocks, and I'm scheduled to see them three more times this year when they return to the magical venue. Why am I so gung ho about seeing Gizz? Well...I haven't heard the Nonagon suite live yet. And I really, really want to. With a backlog as extensive as theirs, I can't be too shocked by that. But I'll take any chance I can get, even if it's to the tune of three straight concerts. Nonagon Infinity represents the beginning of this beautiful journey into an extended universe of music that is amazing in its own right, but completely changes how I perceive music. Each release is a continuation of the episodic format that King Gizz has so diligently plotted, treating fans to all kinds of secrets and easter eggs to uncover within. Take it from someone who was on the outside not long ago: you need to listen to King Gizzard & the Lizard Wizard. They're on the cusp of something magnificent, and I wouldn't want you to be left behind in the eventual rapture.

Number 5 - Emerson, Lake & Palmer by Emerson, Lake, & Palmer

 Number 5: Emerson, Lake & Palmer by Emerson, Lake, & Palmer

Modern day Mozart

Release: November 20th, 1970
Genre: Progressive Rock
Favorite Tracks: Take A Pebble, Tank, The Three Fates

 

Where I heard it: 

If you would have asked me what my favorite album of all-time was a few years ago, today's entry would be my answer without hesitation. Emerson, Lake, & Palmer are a supergroup that came into my life at seemingly just the right time. I was first shown a snippet of their 21-minute magnum opus Tarkus (specifically beginning at 8:46) by my good friend Jack, which featured Keith Emerson on keyboards absolutely crushing a solo. We were gathered on my backyard deck on a late spring night in 2012, when Jack touted this soundbite as the greatest synth solo ever, a sentiment I had little disagreement toward. Soon after, I began independently researching Emerson, Lake, & Palmer, seeking a rebuttal that rivaled the synth solo of Tarkus. I checked Spotify in search of the group's origin point, and the first album listed was Trilogy. From the moment I hit play, I was mystified by the twists and turns taken in the album's musical direction. It probably took me two or three full listens before I ordered a vinyl of Trilogy for my budding record collection. As it turns out, I mistakenly took this to be the band's genesis. Spotify had categorized the group's eponymous debut as a 2012 release, due to a recent re-issue of the album. I felt duped and deceived by my most trusted musical authority, and I've held a grudge against Spotify for it since. Nonetheless, I felt lucky enough to experience such a prolific band like ELP for the first time - again. It felt as if I was digging up relics of the past, and boy did I find a gem with Emerson, Lake, & Palmer. In all my years of exploring the genre, I hadn't heard anything the likes of this. It was a go-to album for years, a point of conversation that I'd attempt to weasel into any musical discussion I could. I was astounded by just how relatively unknown this group was, and I was compelled to spread the gospel upon my unwilling social circles throughout the latter part of high school. This album was such an important part of my upbringing, but after extensive critical analysis for this list, I can admit that Emerson, Lake, & Palmer isn't the greatest thing I've ever heard. Hey, number five ain't too bad though!

Just take a pebble and cast it to the sea
Then watch the ripples that unfold into me
My face spills so gently into your eyes
Disturbing the waters of our lives
Shreds of our memories are lying on your grass
Wounded words of laughter are graveyards of the past
Protographs are grey and torn
Scattered in your fields
Letters of your memories are not real
~ Take a Pebble

What to expect:

Although they're far from household names, Keith Emerson, Greg Lake, and Carl Palmer are three of the most reputable musicians to ever combine their expertise. The group's inception came at a junction in the careers of both Keith Emerson and Greg Lake. Keith Emerson's sudden rise to prominence came from his involvement with a band called The Nice, who achieved modest success under Emerson's guidance. Vocalist Greg Lake had just wrapped up his brief tenure with a little band called King Crimson on some obscure album In the Court of the Crimson King. The Nice and King Crimson would often cross paths during touring slates, formally introducing Emerson and Lake through impromptu jam sessions before sets. When these two found themselves estranged from their original lineups in 1969, it was a no-brainer for them to collaborate on their next project together. Seeking a drummer to round out the group, the duo auditioned a handful of different prospects, including Mitch Mitchell of the Jimi Hendrix Experience. Ultimately, they convinced Carl Palmer of the band Atomic Rooster to leave his position and join the trio of Emerson, Lake, & Palmer. They tested the waters at several festivals across their native England, captivating audiences with an amalgamation of traditional prog rock and interpolations of of notable classical pieces. Two of these songs would be workshopped into The Barbarian and Take a Pebble, later to be included in their inaugural album. Yet, ELP wasn't finished composing one of the most innovative and artistic works of all-time. Each facet of the group contributes incredible performances for Emerson, Lake, & Palmer, but perhaps none more prominently so than Keith Emerson. With years of classical piano training under his belt, Emerson uses his immense wealth of musical knowledge to incorporate the works of composers like Béla Bartók, Leoš Janáček, and Johann Sebastian Bach into his own imaginative arrangements like Knife-Edge and The Barbarian that sound completely unlike their inspired source material. Emerson is no copycat, though; he's perfectly capable of preparing his own epic suite in The Three Fates, displaying a complete mastery of his instrument through unorthodox play methods like strumming the chords of his piano. While Emerson's songwriting tends to be heavily keyboard focused, Greg Lake uses his past credentials from King Crimson to draft tender serenades that lyrically ponder the mystery and fragility of life. Highlighted by emboldened bass tones, Lake's beautiful tonality in both his voice and instrument shine brightest during the 12-minute ballad Take a Pebble and Lucky Man, a song Lake wrote when he was twelve years old. Finally, Carl Palmer advocates for his right to be considered one of rock's greatest drummers, covering an array of percussion instruments like timpani and gong that culminates into what I believe to be the greatest drum solo of all-time: Tank. Palmer literally explores his entire setup in a jaw-dropping flurry of notes that is sure to entertain and delight any listener. Emerson, Lake, and Palmer thrive on the ability to put the spotlight on each of their members' prolific talents in subtle moments of harmonic fusion that flex the band's synchronicity. They've amassed quite a remarkable portfolio across their library, but there's just something so endearing about Emerson, Lake, & Palmer that I can't seem to dismiss. I love just about everything ELP has put out, but this album is still my instant recommendation when the opportunity to share it arises.

 He went to fight wars for his country and his king
Of his honor and his glory the people would sing
Ooh, what a lucky man he was
A bullet had found him
His blood ran as he cried
No money could save him
So he laid down and he died
~ Lucky Man

Why it's my favorite: 

My appreciation for classical music came as a direct result from my involvement in band. When we weren't sweating in the summer sun preparing our show for marching band, we were in the music room tirelessly practicing our winter repertoire to showcase at regional competitions. I had the privilege of playing some of the most emotionally gripping pieces throughout high school, some of which I got to play in grand destinations like Dallas. The stories music can tell are amazing, and none more so than in the classical genre. Emerson, Lake, & Palmer evokes that same joy I received from interpreting centuries-old arrangements during band class, with a synthesized modern twist that perfectly aligned with my musical tastes. Their songs expand upon the ideas of renowned compositions by giving them the full band treatment, reinventing riffs into all-out jams that revolutionized the British prog rock scene alongside legendary acts like Pink Floyd and Yes. Yet, ELP remains largely overlooked in talks about these very same bands. What a shame, considering ELP possesses one of the most talented pianists to ever stroke the keys in Keith Emerson. I adore each member of Emerson, Lake, & Palmer, but I have to admit my total enamor and admiration for the one and only Keith Emerson. As the mastermind behind the majority of the album, his intricate and involved solo work on each track is commonly the main attraction, if not an eyebrow-raising interlude that accompanies (and tries its best not to overshadow) the featured player. The duality between his extravagant acoustic symphonies and jazzy organ solos creates a fascinating dichotomy, merging the archaic and the cutting-edge into one groundbreaking product. In later installments, Emerson's synthesizer modulations open the door to a whole new range of oddities and possibilities. This guy made me very seriously consider learning piano so I could better comprehend his style. Needless to say, Keith Emerson is a giant musical influence of mine. In March of 2016, only a few years after I'd discovered ELP, I came across an article that publicized the death of Keith Emerson at age 71. Following this news, it was revealed that Emerson was deeply depressed after nerve damage in his wrists and hands hampered his playing ability, resulting in Emerson taking his own life. Thinking back, this was the first celebrity death that I remember feeling personally impacted by. The events surrounding Keith Emerson's tragic death contextualized for me how important the music I loved was to him. Emerson put his heart and soul into everything he made, and he wasn't satisfied with having that gift revoked. I sobbed that night while listening to the years of recordings Keith Emerson provided us to remember him by. Every time I hear this album, I can't help but be reminded of the passion and devotion that Emerson poured into every second. It transports me back to that wide-eyed wonder I had when first hearing this album, and the grievous mourning I had when learning of Keith Emerson's passing. There will never be another like him. Perhaps that's why Emerson, Lake, & Palmer is so special to me. Hearing his spirit flow through the music is what keeps him alive, and that's something I'll continue to do for as long as I live. Rest in peace, Keith.

Number 6 - The Dark Side of the Moon by Pink Floyd

 Number 6: The Dark Side of the Moon by Pink Floyd

Total eclipse of the art

Release: March 1st, 1973
Genre: Progressive Rock
Favorite Tracks: The Great Gig in the Sky, Us and Them, Money

 

Where I heard it: 

Asking someone about their first time hearing The Dark Side of the Moon is like asking where they were on 9/11: everybody remembers. This album serves as a rite of passage for prog newcomers and aspiring psychonauts alike, a momentous experience that has transfixed and delighted audiences for decades going strong. It's been around long enough for people to famously speculate a farfetched conspiracy theory revolving around moments of synchronicity between the album and The Wizard of Oz. The Dark Side of the Moon has transcended popular culture and achieved its own musical meta among the industry. I certainly caught wind of Dark Side's branding well before I heard anything from Pink Floyd, donning the iconic cover art of light refracting through a prism. The first time I heard the name Pink Floyd was at the recommendation of my seventh grade teacher, as they were one of her favorite bands. At that time, I was fully entrenched in exploring the classic rock genre, but I never quite made it past the surface when it came to prog rock until I was a bit older. Coincidentally, my introduction to Dark Side of the Moon actually occurred only a few hours after a story I have previously recounted during my entry for Electric Ladyland. To bring you up to speed: I was home alone one spring weekend, belligerently baked after a planned afternoon of reefer and relaxation. I had bought two footlong Subway sandwiches for my lunch and dinner, but I was so high that I ate both in one sitting and greened out on my couch. After awakening disoriented and confused from a three hour nap, I begrudgingly resumed my checklist for the night's activities: finally give The Dark Side of the Moon a proper run-through in all its glory, under the perfect set of circumstances. I filed through my stepdad's bulky vinyl library, placed the record onto the phonograph, turned on my stepdad's state-of-the-art sound system, and sat back on the couch. Frankly, I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I remember staring up at the popcorn ceiling of my living room in the dim light of the bar lamps as On the Run played through the speakers, and it made me question whether or not the music I was listening to was actually real or just part of my hallucinations. In a little under forty-five minutes, everything I had ever heard about Pink Floyd and The Dark Side of the Moon finally clicked. I'm pretty sure there were tears in my eyes as the needle dragged toward the center following the album's conclusion Eclipse. It's a precious musical memory that I may never live to replicate, and it's about time I pay my respects.

Ticking away the moments that make up a dull day
You fritter and waste the hours in an offhand way
Kicking around on a piece of ground in your hometown
Waiting for someone or something to show you the way
Tired of lying in the sunshine
Staying home to watch the rain
And you are young and life is long
And there is time to kill today
And then one day you find
Ten years have got behind you
No one told you when to run
You missed the starting gun
~ Time

What to expect:

The timeline of Pink Floyd's expansive history can be daunting to follow, but classifying each period into a few distinct eras helps distinguish the gradual evolution of the band's sound. After original frontman Syd Barrett was replaced by David Gilmour following the 1967 debut The Piper at the Gates of Dawn, Pink Floyd would establish their core lineup of Roger Waters on bass, Richard Wright on keyboards, and Nick Mason on drums, recording a majority of their discography with this personnel. Right off the bat, Pink Floyd established their signature brand of experimental rock and psychedelia with ethereal, mysterious songwriting overlaid upon distant, twangy guitar tones. This formula helped the band garner a cult following during the latter part of the 60's and start of the 70's, winning over listeners with several deep cut classics like Atom Heart Mother and Meddle. While these albums are essential to the Pink Floyd library, their arrangements are notably more withdrawn in comparison to more popular works. There do exist glaring exceptions, such as the monolithic epic Echoes off Meddle, or the long-winded Several Species of Small Fury Animals Gathered Together in a Cave and Grooving with a Pict from Ummagumma, but they acted within a vacuum of otherwise tame material. 1973 would mark the beginning of Pink Floyd's next great epoch, lead by their mainstream breakthrough The Dark Side of the Moon. Heavily inspired by the oversight of then-EMI sound engineer Alan Parsons, he was responsible for introducing the band to the most cutting-edge synthesizer technology available on the market at the time. With new toys to play with, Richard Wright's traditional organ style took a giant leap forward into the future, creating some of the most awe-inspiring augmentations with his newfound digitation. Altogether, The Dark Side of the Moon displays dramatic improvement in its production, given the numerous technological advancements. Cross-fading, speaker oscillation, and seamless song transitions are only a few tools the band utilizes to manufacture a thorough, immersive, and emotional adventure. While this album is an industrial marvel of music, its thematically centralized songwriting by Roger Waters is ultimately seen as the catalyst for its success and popularity. In contrast to the superfluous philosophical musings of previous projects, The Dark Side of the Moon takes a down-to-Earth approach to its conceptual narrative. Its lyrics reflect a deep contempt of the mortal coil of life, including the rapid and steadfast passage of the years in Time or human obsession with greed and wealth in Money. Its narrative of being driven into insanity is best exemplified in songs like the nightmarish soundscape On the Run or the tender lullaby Brain Damage. Although these issues are never truly resolved, there's a sense of comfort and company in the end that stems from the shared psychosis of existence we all experience. The Dark Side of the Moon unties humanity together, linked by our sorrows and broken dreams of a capitalist-fueled society. It's a grim and longingly optimistic perspective, but it's one of the most gripping concepts I've ever heard from a piece of music. Beyond its allegories, The Dark Side of the Moon has withstood the test of time, recognized for its achievements throughout history. It might be a no-brainer of a choice for this list, but its inclusion requires no justification.

And all you create
And all you destroy
And all that you do
And all that you say
And all that you eat
And everyone you meet
And all that you slight
And everyone you fight
And all that is now
And all that is gone
And all that's to come
And everything under the sun is in tune
But the sun is eclipsed by the moon
~ Eclipse

Why it's my favorite: 

I mean...I don't have to explain to you why The Dark Side of the Moon is this high on the list, right? It's the album. One out of every five people in the United States owned this record. It's colloquially accepted as one of the finest pieces of music across any genre to ever be released. Honestly, hyping up this album feels a lot like beating a dead horse, but I'm gonna ride this one all the way to the races. There's a reason why so many people are adamant about The Dark Side of the Moon being prerequisite material for any music lover: it displays complete mastery of conceptual progression and thematic storytelling in an age where that sort of thing was uncommon. Speak to Me is the perfect opener for the album, briefly foreshadowing climactic segments of the album like the ticking clocks of Time, the cash register rings of Money, the maniacal giggles of Brain Damage, and the wails of The Great Gig in the Sky. The way Pink Floyd recycles and reprises notable riffs to develop motifs throughout the album is nothing short of theatrical, and it pays off by the end with a satisfying thoroughness that vindicates the arduous journey. I'm ashamed to admit how choked up I get by the time Eclipse starts playing. I feel like I've made it to the end of something meaningful. Each side of the record is its own musical suite, delivering an uninterrupted stream of music that washes over you so deeply, it's jarring to emerge back on the surface. As the last fleeting harmonies resonate on the album, I find myself not wanting it to end in selfish indulgence. Perhaps that's what makes The Dark Side of the Moon so beautiful; it offers plenty, but leaves you wanting more. I've had so many intimate moments in other albums like Wish You Were Here and The Wall, but none so profound as my memories of The Dark Side of the Moon. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't convince myself by the submission of this entry that there was any better Pink Floyd album than this one. It's special not just to me, but to generations of fans that passed down this unbelievable work of art. There's a aura of exclusivity that surrounds The Dark Side of the Moon, and the only terms of entry are to press play. I'll put it as simply as possible: if you haven't heard The Dark Side of the Moon...you're missing out.