King Gizzard And The Lizard Wizard: Willoughby’s Beach

Willoughby’s Beach is nine tracks, ten inches of dumb, blunted fun. According to the lyric sheet enclosed within the record’s cover, the majority of the tracks bear a word count that barely stretch further than the septet’s tongue-twisting moniker. Though the gauge of lyrical depth barely dips in at kiddie-pool height, the EP is filled to the teeth with consistently killer hooks.

The Gizz’s populace lineup translates to a dense sonic atmosphere, with razor-sharp licks and riffs garnished with intense mouth organ breakdowns and delay-soaked hootin’ and hollerin’. Danger $$$ blows minds with a slight misdirection of a rapid-fire tempo changeup.


The title of feel good jam Dustbin Fletcher speaks volumes in itself – nostalgia, Australiana, sheer idiocy – though the lyrical content doesn’t pertain to Essendon’s stalwart full-back, and instead (surprise) presents as an ode to getting high.


The brooding theremin-fermented menace of Crookedile burns along with a emphatic callback to the dawn of distortion with a cracker of a Jack The Ripper-esque riff, all the while frontman Stu screams out like a deranged televangelist.


Stoned Mullet reads like the ultimate stoner to-do list – “Jack it, jack it/Green oooout” – with a ‘60s freakout beat commanding at least one dance-off before the inevitable green-out. Dead Beat rips through an enthused four-chord formula until the violent coda pummels the senses.


The 10” signs off with the anthemic title track which, like all great record-closers, would make for a triumphant soundtrack to a 1980s action film’s credit roll. “Just because I like you/It doesn’t mean I like you” soars the entirety of the song’s lyrical content, a contradictory kiss-off from a record that’s familiar and fresh, greened-out and tenacious, anti-authoritarian and apathetic, pious and unrepentant, dumb and ingenious.


Some people just wanna fill the world with silly bong jams, and what’s wrong with that?

Best Track: Dead Beat


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In A Word: Absolute