The sheer amount of output from Australia’s beloved rock outfit King Gizzard & The Lizard Wizard— 27 studio albums in 13 years— is staggering, though it’s not the number of releases that has fans continually clamouring for more: the band have lent themselves to almost every genre under the sun, and have taken to the vast majority of them like a duck to water. From humble psych rock beginnings on albums like ‘I’m in Your Mind Fuzz’ to explorations of electronic music, metal, conceptual projects, microtonal music and far, far more, Stu Mackenzie and company have really done it all. Well, perhaps not quite— new album ‘Phantom Island’ is the band’s first to be recorded with an orchestra, bringing yet another musical style into the band’s wheelhouse. Between its relaxed boogie-rock grooves and lush instrumentation, the record is a delightful soundtrack for the summer, albeit one that doesn’t quite reach its full potential.

The songs on ‘Phantom Island’ were developed as part of the sessions for ‘Flight b741,’ and the connection between the two records is immediately apparent: beneath its more ornate exterior, King Gizzard’s newest release retains a focus on straightforward hard rock boogie. Single ‘Deadstick,’ with its bouncy rhythms (reminiscent of Status Quo) and infectious energy, could have been pulled straight from the band’s previous album, marking the most upbeat and up-tempo number here. Where the new record separates itself is in its tone: where ‘Flight b741’ was rowdy, ‘Phantom Island’ is often much more pulled-back and relaxed, content to wander through a host of delightful arrangements and softly-delivered tunes. The album’s title track really provides an indication for what’s to follow— Michael Cavanagh is absolutely in the pocket on the drums here, giving the song a gentle momentum.

The new album’s artwork shows that the plane from ‘Flight b741’ has crashed: in much the same way, ‘Phantom Island’ relishes in bringing the energy down to a more muted, withheld place. Standout track ‘Spacesick’ settles into a true head-bobber of a groove, all kicked off with the line “‘cause it’s all like that but floating in space”— though the band’s performances are naturally less flamboyant than normal, that doesn’t necessarily mean the results are any less infectious. Tracks like ‘Sea of Doubt’ and ‘Panpsych’ feel content to dwell in a supremely comfy collection of rhythms, making ‘Phantom Island’ one of the most easily enjoyable records of the year: whoever you are, you’ll no doubt find something to enjoy in a cut like ‘Silent Spirit’ between its memorable bass lines and adorable atmosphere.

The evocative moods King Gizzard evoke here are only expanded upon by composer Chad Kelly’s instrumental additions, which lend ‘Phantom Island’ a unique place in the band’s discography. For the most part, these orchestral flourishes sit in the background, providing a comforting accompaniment to these boogie-rock tracks: the uplifting strings on ‘Eternal Return,’ for instance, fill out the song marvellously, though never have the spotlight placed upon them. Elsewhere, these additional layers do receive more of a direct focus— see the triumphant brass on ‘Deadstick’ or the ominous soundscape that opens ‘Lonely Cosmos’— but nonetheless never distract from the grooves that King Gizzard want to settle into: this is a rock album, first and foremost, with the orchestra merely acting as its backbone.

The question of why this had to be the case is a difficult one though— King Gizzard are obviously no strangers to experimentation, ditching rock music entirely on projects like ‘The Silver Cord.’ A feeling of missed opportunity, ironically, haunts ‘Phantom Island’ whenever Chad Kelly’s orchestral flourishes seem deemphasised: if those grand instrumental additions are the album’s strongest selling point, we wish they’d acted in a more essential role. Often, those whimsical woodwinds and lush strings feel like salad dressing beside the boogie-rock sound at the album’s core— on ‘Aerodynamic,’ for instance, they feel near-completely sidelined! Crucially, the inclusion of an orchestra does work in ‘Phantom Island’s’ favour, immersing the listener in newfound waves of calm: it just isn’t a particularly meaningful direction for the band to go in, is all.

A similar underwhelming quality creeps into a number of the more relaxed cuts on the record— much of ‘Phantom Island’ is enjoyable in the moment, but leaves very little in the way of a lasting impression. Tracks like ‘Lonely Cosmos,’ ‘Panpsych’ and ‘Grow Wings and Fly’ arguably get too comfy in that classic boogie-rock sound, letting the signature charm and character of King Gizzard slip. Though expecting the progressive choices of ‘Polygondwanaland’ or the furious garage rock of ‘Nonagon Infinity’ wouldn’t be realistic for this record, the listener is nonetheless left yearning for them at several moments throughout the new album— ‘Phantom Island’ is agreeable, no doubt, but might not be the band’s most adventurous or interesting work to date.

The biggest evolution for the band actually comes in the record’s lyrical choices: gone are the mystical tales of ‘Murder of the Universe’ or the dystopian warnings of ‘PetroDragonic Apocalypse,’ replaced instead with stories much more intimate and close to home. ‘Phantom Island’ sees the band exploring the toll their lifestyles can take on their lives, expressing a desire to spend more time at home. Stu Mackenzie and company have made their new release a love letter to their families, and to the concept of family— as you might expect, it’s positively adorable.

“We had our life on lock, oh yes we did

There's more to it now than just leaving, 'cause there's so much more to miss

But now that you're here, it's harder and less clear

But I guess distance needs a yardstick for real love to hit”

King Gizzard & The Lizard Wizard are one of the most consistent bands in the world, and ‘Phantom Island’ is no evidence to the contrary: it’s another greatly enjoyable collection of tunes that feels right at home under the summer sunshine. The album is a cute addendum to ‘Flight b741,’ to be sure: if the band were hoping to craft something a little more definitive than that, they’ve sadly come up short here. The band’s 27th studio release could undoubtedly have been something more impressive, given the sounds at play here: unfortunately, we’ve have to settle for an album that’s merely thoroughly enjoyable front-to-back this time around.