This is from the Ice Death press release, it's pretty interesting about the improv nature of that album, which was inspired itself by how impov'd a lot of The Dripping Tap was:
For this new album, however, the group wouldn’t be bringing in any pre-written songs or ideas; instead, they planned to cook up all the music together in the studio, on the spot.
Ambitious stuff, then. “All we had prepared as we walked into the studio were these seven song titles,” says Mackenzie. “I have a list on my phone of hundreds of possible song titles. I’ll never use most of them, but they’re words and phrases I feel could be digested into King Gizzard-world.” Mackenzie selected seven titles from his list that he felt “had a vibe”, and then attached a beats-per-minute value to each one. Each song would also follow one of the seven modes of the major scale: Ionian, Dorian, Phrygian, Lydian, Mixolydian, Aeolian and Locrian (“I’m not sure if many people will notice that,” says Mackenzie, “but any musical dorks will get it”).Over seven days, the group recorded hours and hours of jams, dedicating a day to each mode and BPM. “Naturally, each day’s jams had a different flavour, because each day was in a different scale and a different BPM,” Mackenzie says. “We’d walk into the studio, set everything up, get a rough tempo going and just jam. No preconceived ideas at all, no concepts, no songs. We’d jam for maybe 45 minutes, and then all swap instruments and start again.”
The group ended each day with four-to-five hours of new jams in the can. Mackenzie auditioned those jams after the sessions were done, stitching them together into the songs that feature on the 21st studio album by King Gizzard & The Lizard Wizard, Ice, Death, Planets, Lungs, Mushrooms And Lava (the initials of the title, IDPLMAL, spell out a mnemonic for the modes). “I went through it all and cut it up,” he said, of the hours of new music he’d recorded to two-track tape, preferring to “commit to print” over the conveniences of modern digital production. “It was a huge editing job, actually. I edited each track down to ten-to-fifteen minutes of music drawn from that specific day’s recordings, trying to find narratives, arcs and loops within the jams. So the songs were actually written during this editing phase, which was something we’d never done before ‘The Dripping Tap’. The raw power, the real energy, was just a loose jam, and then we refined it and edited it in a way that felt very musical.”
Having assembled full working instrumentals from these jams, Mackenzie and his bandmates began overdubbing flute, organ, percussion and extra guitar over the top. The lyrics, meanwhile, were a group effort. “We had an editable Google Sheet that we were all working on,” says Mackenzie. “Most of the guys in the band wrote a lot of the lyrics, and it was my job to arrange it all and piece it together.”
The result of this radical, experimental creative process is one of the densest, most unpredictable statements from a band whose work always rockets in from unexpected angles accompanied by a wealth of subtext and theorems. But you don’t even need even a passing understanding of those Ancient Greek musical modes to appreciate this adventurous new music. Highlights include ‘Lava’, a suite of pure fire music that swings between spiritual jazz and new age visions, powered by psychedelic saxophones, shimmering cymbals and McCoy Tyner-esque pianos, and the wormhole-riding prog-folk excursions of ‘Magma’, which leads unsuspecting listeners into unfamiliar realms via the siren call of Mackenzie’s flute, while ‘Ice V’ delivers apocalyptic funk with a cool hand at the controls, ‘Hell’s Itch’ hypnotises with its coiling guitar lines, hard honking harmonica and polymorphic basslines, and the ever-shifting ‘Iron Lung’ follows the choppy grooves of its happy/sad songcraft through unexpected twists and turns, a vision of pop refracted through a house of mirrors. Sinister closer Gliese 710, meanwhile, pushes ever onwards into the darkness, its lumbering-but-lithe heaviosity enough to get corpses to nod their heads.
Listen close and you can hear the electric interaction between the members of King Gizzard, the pure, distilled instrumental fire at their disposal, the simpatico musical conversations between these friends. Pull back and you’ll marvel at how their lightning-in-a-bottle improvisations yield songs of such craft, such laser-guided focus. This freeform creative process – chasing the moment in the jam, then selecting flashpoints and highlights afterwards – is one Mackenzie can see the family Gizzard returning to in the future. “We’re already jamming a lot more onstage,” he says. “I guess bands like Can made records this way before, but it’s new to us, and it was a really, really fun experience.”
Ice, Death, Planets, Lungs, Mushrooms And Lava is already one of Mackenzie’s favourite Gizzard records to date. “It’s like we were able to escape song structures,” he says. “It felt ‘far out’ for us – we took heaps of risks and did heaps of different new things on this one. It wasn’t just about one concept – there’s stacks embedded in this one.”
Petro D operates along similar lines - all 7 tracks were written from improvs, each track written and recorded in a single day, each day of improv starting from scratch but following a loose idea of the "story" that track was supposed to "tell".
― serving aunt (stevie), Friday, 16 June 2023 07:54 (ten months ago) link