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Taking a page from 1970s classic rock for “Flight b741,� their 26th studio album out Friday, the band didn’t use guitar pedals and recorded on cheap, second-hand amps from a local pawn shop, according to frontman Stu Mackenzie. Once in the studio, they relied on instinct, not strategy, for the band’s most collaborative album to date.

“At this moment in time, the easiest thing was the right thing to do,� Mackenzie, 33, said of how the men approached their record. “Don’t come in with too many ideas, just pick up the guitars. Don’t worry about your bloody headphone mix, just make the music that comes out.�

The album’s lyrics maintain many of the poetically dark and poignant themes the band has come to be known for — like battling depression or escaping parental strife. “I’ve been drinking on the job/Not much thinking going on about the passengers I got on board/Satan’s winking, givin’ me the nod,� they croon in “Sad Pilot.�

But the sound of “Flight b741� is decidedly upbeat and nostalgic, thanks in part, Mackenzie said, to some of their relatively new identities as fathers.

“Being a parent, I think, changes everybody. It has to. I think if it doesn’t, you might be a psychopath,� said Mackenzie, who has a 3-year-old and 9-month-old baby. “I actually have more gratitude in my heart than ever before. And I think that’s in the songwriting, from probably everybody’s perspective. And I think we did have a lot of fun making this record.�

That four of its six members now have kids makes the band’s sustained output and touring schedule even more impressive. And it’s not just their personal lives that have undergone major shifts since they got together. A lot has changed in the music industry since King Gizzard & the Lizard Wizard first put music out in 2010.

But in those two and a half decades, they’ve cultivated a loyal fanbase, allowing them to explore multiple disparate genres of rock and avoid creative constraints or expectations that many artists nowadays feel bound to, such as factoring in TikTok virality or Spotify algorithms.

“Maybe we are in an unusually fortunate position where people actually expect us to do the thing you’re not supposed to do. And that’s a liberating feeling because it kind of just means I’m not sort of beholden to any industry trope,� Mackenzie said.

That liberation is apparent in their unapologetically nostalgic album, which sounds like it was pulled from a time capsule buried during the heyday of rock and roll.

“That was very intentional. We had had this playlist of lots of ‘60s and ’70s, just like, classic rock,� said bassist Lucas Harwood. “It’s just you and your instrument. And it’s like, ‘What can I do without all the other bells and whistles that technology affords?’�

When asked about maintaining their current level of productivity, Mackenzie acknowledged the difficulty of finding time to write and record music at this stage in their lives. Despite those challenges, however, the band leader is reluctant to stop.

“I’m just trying to stay on the treadmill because if I get off the treadmill, I’m going to use my time in probably some form of self-destructive way. So, I need to just keep busy,� he said.