Everything changes when you become a parent, least of all you’ll probably stop going to live music for about 14 months. Not that seeing Gizzard in Australia was easy before that: my last show was a short festival set at Splendour in the Grass 2023, and my last full headline show was mid-July 2019 night 1 at Sydney's Roundhouse. So on the train into night 2 of the Phantom Island orchestral tour at the Sydney Opera House, I could hardly believe where I was and what I was about to see, let alone the following night at the Enmore Theatre that I had added on just a couple of weeks prior. Two whole days just trying to be myself again! I moved far away from Sydney shortly after that 2019 show. The construction site I knew then is now a brand new city and just my thousand kilometer round trip alone was daunting. That’s before the two hours transit there and back between my only viable accommodation (thanks Bennett!) and the performance venues.
The irony was not lost on me that I would be using my first nights ever away from my family to go and see Phantom Island live, an album defined by the themes of being lost, stranded, and missing your loved ones on tour. I had originally planned to attend with a friend (the KGLW.net logo graphic artist @pduthiedraws) who had to pull out at the last minute. With his blessing to pay his ticket forward to someone in need, I briefly met Gabe in the merch line who had traveled from the US to attend to the tour, and through him it made its way to a young casual listener from Western Australia who happened to be outside the venue and had never had the opportunity to see Gizzard live, and who seemed to be a full convert by the end of the show.
Most readers will be familiar with the Phantom Island Orchestral tour due to its repeated setlists, so I won’t go through the blow by blow breakdown. But I’m sure like most attendees of the tour, my show felt very special, of course due to my relatively long gap between shows, but also I think the boys were just glad to be getting a real tour underway at home, also the first of the HeapsKeen livestream-era (plus this particular orchestra night being one of very few chosen to be live-streamed). We also had the distinction of conduction by Chad Kelly himself, actual composer of the orchestral segments on the album, in his ‘home’ venue (one of the most iconic in the world) with his usual orchestra — all warmed up from the night before and projecting a palpable excitement and joy.
It all simultaneously felt like both a reunion, and the celebration of the end of an era — it was no secret the orchestra shows were a huge logistical challenge to put together, and with more recent confirmation they're never planning to tour like this again, there was a certain privilege to catch it at its most polished and comfortable, right near the end. Having missed the fan meetup that afternoon, I did have a little mingling time in the lobby before the show with a lower common denominator of Gizzard listener. This mostly seemed to be the curious and the casuals who catch them when they can without following their every move, but I must shout-out Campbell, a devotee in front of me in the merch line who is an employee at Triple J and had just travelled to Melbourne to help produce the radio station’s recent interview with Stu. Everyone was excited, but not much rapport had built so early in the tour, especially in such a formal venue with staff that were incredulous to say the least. The acknowledgement of country by Uncle Michael West was quite freewheeling and honestly a little perplexing to start with, but a good ice-breaker in addition to its main purpose.
The album is the album and the performance was the performance. Though an impressive display, none of these highly rehearsed live versions revealed anything I had missed from the studio versions and my favourites remained the same. These highlights were the guitar crescendo from “Spacesick,” Joey’s “Silent Spirit” verse, and of course “Grow Wings and Fly.” Despite first appearances, it all very genuinely stayed true to the traditional DIY Gizzard approach, the 29-piece orchestra simply feeling like a seventh band member adding their sound to the room. Many subtleties were clearly lost, but the brass section was always present, and most of the string section highlights were well slotted in between the three guitars so that nothing felt too wasted. Even the harp was sometimes audible from my seat all the way at the very back of the humongous room.
“Grow Wings and Fly” had a nice touch during the climax with all the lights suddenly turning rainbow and prismatic; until then I hadn’t even realised they had only been using white spotlights the entire show. This was a beautiful aesthetic nod to Butterfly 3000 being the origin of the song, conceived during a "Shanghai" jam, as well as the beginning of the parenthood theme in the discography.
After over a dozen teases since its release three years ago, there had been some speculation the band might finally fully debut “The Land Before Timeland” in Australia due to its opening line: ‘It's good to be back.’ With the song most recently teased and jammed in The Netherlands orchestral show during “Grow Wings and Fly,” I was keenly awaiting the intermission jam to begin, the only variable part of the show. My excitement built as an upbeat bass kicked in with a characteristically sharp lead guitar. It drew out and the energy built, but I started to doubt it as the Flight b741 vibes came in and it became “Daily Blues.” We don’t typically separate debuts by country, but this marked the first Flight b741 material played on home ground. Good and fun, but one to be standing in an audience for I thought.
The orchestra made their way back on stage in preparation for the moment I had anticipated most, “The River.” Immediately a favourite from when I first became a fan, it was probably the song I most wanted to hear going into my first show at Gizzfest 2017. That set would end with “Lonely Steel Sheet Flyer,” now an obvious rarity that it was a privilege to hear. But at the time my main impression was that it was cool, but they had played the wrong song from Quarters!, and “The River” has eluded me ever since. So what better way to meet my high expectations than with a fresh orchestral arrangement? I couldn’t think of many other ways to improve upon what was already the ultimate Gizzard live song, now totally frisson-inducing. I was loosely aware of the setlist, but I hadn't followed or streamed the orchestra shows closely. Knowing a section of “The River” had been bypassed, I went into this with the mistaken memory that it would be the jam section (it was actually Part 3 that has been omitted in orchestral versions) so it was doubly satisfying when the band launched into a stone cold, heavy Part 2 jam.
I’m very thankful to finally get out of the eddy and get my journey down the many bends, flows, and whorls of the song underway.
This is not to suggest the rest of the reinterpretations didn’t satisfy. The more ‘prog’ songs were best accompanied I thought, namely “Crumbling Castle,” and “Dragon.” “This Thing,” a low-key highlight of my 2019 Sydney show, also had a big glow-up.
Overall it's clear the orchestra era has been a wonderful success. The energy in the room was phenomenal, and had the strongest mutual awareness in the moment between performers and audience that I have experienced at a Gizz show. This groupthink was all appreciation and love, from the little interactions between crowd and band to the performance of “The Birthday Song” by the orchestra for Lucas.
Yet the ‘real’ tour hadn’t even begun, and I was hungry for the surprises only a full rock set could deliver the following night in my favourite venue, the Enmore Theatre. But not before my phone died walking out of the venue, and like a real tourist I used its final moments to check my train schedule home and hand write it in my journal so as not to get totally lost and stranded in the city where I had lived for seven years.
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After a nostalgic day spent slipping back into my anxious Western Sydney self, I prepared to make my way back into the city. I had rushed the merch line and failed to secure a poster the night before — so when my train to the venue was delayed by a half an hour, I decided life might be easier if I just didn't bother getting into the poster game. I had been asked if I missed living here twice in two days, and at this moment I was no longer wishing that I could say yes. I eventually made it to Newtown, tried to enjoy the walk down Enmore road, stopped to start a joint and appreciate the full moon before heading in to the venue, got a beer, contemplated the impressive tour poster collection in the lobby, scoped spots and spotted familiar faces from the night before around the sparse crowd, wandered over to check out the merch desk, let a few people go ahead of me, and then saw about five posters still left! I guess it was nice to pick up a memento from my trip after all; funny how that pans out, and just in time for the second opener.
Party Dozen had been on the fringes of my attention for a while, but not being local anymore they’re not something I ever really got into. It all made a whole lot more sense during their live show, which is very compelling and loud for a drums and sax duo (plus backing track) — a nice little glimpse of the Sydney I can say I miss.
Back outside for a bit more of the joint (saving the rest trying to manifest “Float Along - Fill Your Lungs,” to no avail) and to cloak my bag and poster, and I was as ready as I could be for the full Gizz experience. Attending a seated-only show at the Opera House is one thing, but having recently gotten old and acquiring a living, squirming kettlebell, I was nursing some lower back strain, unsure how I could still handle myself in a tight crowd of early-twenty-somethings. I like to keep my crowd position options open, especially attending solo, so I waited on the side about ten rows back to find out what the vibe would be.
Uncle Michael found a much stronger rapport in this size room, and had even met some of the rail surfers waiting in line earlier who clearly gave him a better sense of what we were all about. This made for a very engaging welcome to country, even with some good jokes to warm up the crowd.
“Billabong Valley” was an interesting start, only its second time ever as opener, but a very welcome old favourite from the best microtonal album, played nice and steady with a drawn out breakdown setting the show off on a clear, consistent pace. Into “All Is Known”, another favourite to bring the energy up a bit, and always appreciated to hear something from their most underrated album Gumboot Soup, little did I know what was coming.
The trio was rounded out with “Pleura,” and the energy was obviously building. My back was feeling okay so I started making my way toward the middle of the crowd. This was a great decision as “Magma” was next, which I will never tire of and clearly the band won’t either, as this version kept going and going, building and building, refusing to dissipate with a huge double false-ending for what turned out as one of the song’s longest versions ever, with the crowd fully in the moment, dancing (and rowing) to match the energy.
Instantly upon the band mentioning “blues” in the song break, a vicious circle pit formed close by and I let myself get drawn in as “Field of Vision” kicked off. More very polished material not yet heard in Australia that the crowd was not wasting any time catching up on, the circle soon disintegrating into what was probably the rowdiest mosh of the night (but with a great positive attitude all through).
If not a debut, then a nice big 50-show bustout of “Dirt” (as its first non-acoustic version) was a nice reprieve to catch our breath and just sway for a while. Paper Mâché Dream Balloon live really has such a pleasant naïve simplicity that highlights how accomplished the band now are as musicians. The mellow vibes continued with the highlight of the show: “The Wheel.” Surely one of its best-ever versions and almost certainly the longest ever (pending full stats availability), this is the band as lush as they get, spontaneously going deep on a nice, rare, heady gem with a form and structure that would make you think they play it every other show.
Now having had a lull to catch my breath, the intro to “The Dripping Tap” made me realise how thirsty I was. The crowd energy during this song is never to be missed, but I knew its full duration would end my night if I didn’t take a break, so after a minute more I headed down the back for some water. Now conserving energy and hoping for any of my other most common not seen songs from Float Along - Fill Your Lungs, I’m In Your Mind Fuzz, or Oddments as the closer, I hung back to appreciate the technical prowess and instrumentation of the metal segment (“Flamethrower,” “Converge” > “Witchcraft” > drum solo) with some space around me.
I knew the show was entering its final phase and I prepared to get back in the crowd. The only I’m In Your Mind Fuzz material I had seen live previously was just the back half of the suite slotted in after “The Lord of Lightning” in 2017 (also very rad), so I was glad to hear we would be getting the full suite to close the show,; even more so with Stu’s proclamation that they probably can’t remember exactly how to play it.
Muscle memory clearly kicks in for some of their most played songs, and we were off into the incredibly consistent groove. This was the perfect energy level to match the last of my excitement against my growing fatigue, and was very danceable but efficient with space. I unfocused my tired eyes into the flickering green and orange lights, and imagined it was 2014 in a tiny New York club. My mind fuzzed over and I lost track of the music as the band let it devolve into an unusual medley of teases that broke down into a quiet jam before snapping us back into the room with “Cellophane.” It was down the home straight from here on out to a clean, tight, and unceremonious finish for a hard curfew (good old Sydney!). The large contingent that stayed chanting for an encore allowed a good opportunity for my smooth exit, and it was all over just like that.
It felt great to be involved and back in the swarm, and of course I had been immediately hooked with a deep-down desire to keep following the tour. Alas, I was just starting to think I’d got through my solo trip without any real dramas, when the highway patrol stopped me about a third of the way into my long, hot (no car air-conditioning) drive home to detour the whole freeway around a significant bushfire that was getting too close. Once again on the verge of being lost, with a dying, overheating phone and no signal, the unforeseen three-hour delay pushed me past my limit of patience and to the brink of dehydration.
Ultimately no King Gizzard set could hope to match finally making it home to the evening shade, cool sea breeze, freshly cooked dinner, and reunion with a missed family.
Words and photos by W.B.T.G. Slinger