Genres both describe existing formal patterns within rhetorical practice, as well as suture the audience’s chaotic feelings to the imperfect stability of formal pattern recognition. Said differently, “A genre is not merely the label for a text, but the signature of an affective apparatus that both presumes and produces bodies-in-feeling” (Gunn 364). This essay theorizes form, feeling, and genre through a rhetorical analysis of the band King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard (KGLW), attending to KGLW’s music as well as paratextual discourse from fans, critics, and the band themselves. King Gizzard offers an important case study in the discursive role of genre in organizing both the production and reception of popular music in a supposedly post-genre era. King Gizzard also embodies the tensions of our current twilight of the generic Idols. The band is, at its core, a Rock and Roll band, an almost anachronistic relic of a bygone era of generic stability. Nevertheless, KGLW has engaged in near-constant generic experimentation over the course of their 25-album discography, with album-length explorations of thrash metal, boogie blues, surf rock, acid jazz, electronic dance music, amongst others. We argue that as a filter for anticipatory feeling, genre offers invitations to audiences to set expectations, appreciate nuance, and identify exemplars of the craft. Additionally, we hold that King Gizzard’s strategic deployment of genre as an inventional rhetorical resource demonstrates that genre remains a productive constraint on the creative form of musical production and performance.