
On the last two tracks, which each stretch for more than nine minutes, King Gizzard finally flex their talent for switching things up and catching you off guard, instead of just brandishing their metal bona fides. All of that happens before “Gila Monster,” the baldly incoherent story’s introduction of the beast and the least serious track of all, in which Mackenzie rhymes “I’m the gila” with “Godzilla guerilla,” among other shards of psychobabble, before the song ends on a boilerplate-y (though still impressive) speed solo. The very next track, “Converge,” does much of the same, with Mackenzie’s vocals once again clinging to various monotones for several measures on end, directing attention to the obligatory falsetto wails and blast beats. On “Supercell,” frontman Stu Mackenzie growls out a first verse with several vague allusions to The Wizard of Oz, then delivers a biblical second verse before a call-and-response chorus propelled by a double kick drum coasts through a few times, uninspired. Where Infest at least took an earnest stab at paying homage to the band members’ teenage metal heroes, tracing yet another new identity with originality and some grippingly gritty highlights, PetroDragon Apocalypse dive-bombs into outright camp. It’s an unfortunately one-note album, even though it technically contains so, so many notes. A spiritual continuation of their thrash-dabbling 2019 album Infest the Rat’s Nest, PetroDragon takes their thrash- and speed-metal worship one big step backward: a goofily operatic crash makeover that’s fun for maybe one spin but offers few reasons to revisit. are what it sounds like when King Gizzard’s constant-motion-as-muse approach works perfectly, then PetroDragon Apocalypse is the flip side: the odd dud that comes from never letting up. By the middle of the sprawling statement, the riff suggested outlandish associations- vaseline-smeared hammered dulcimer, Bollywood-biting Backstreet Boys-before landing, organically, on the same simple melody where it started. and L.W., a lurching fipple fanfare started things off like the tattered end of thread on a spool and proceeded to spin around for well over an hour, changing color, never breaking. On their mid-pandemic companion albums K.G. A descending lead guitar flits across proggy opener “Motor Spirit” for just a few seconds, like a passing thought, and then, three tracks later, re-emerges as the theme of the more straightforward “Witchcraft.” The band has pulled off this trick before, to extremely fun effect. A melodic motif emerges a few minutes into PetroDragonic Apocalypse or, Dawn of Eternal Night: An Annihilation of Planet Earth and the Beginning of Merciless Damnation, the 24th studio album by the olympically prolific Australian rockers King Gizzard & the Lizard Wizard.
