Kevin Parker, better known by pseudonym Tame Impala, has circulated the music world since the late 2000s, undergoing drastic shifts in his sonic philosophy along the way: from commencing, officially, as a band to better advertise themselves to record labels in a land where a solo rock project seemed risky, to soon entirely embracing the group’s true stature with Parker being its sole creative mind.
Ebbing through psychedelic, stoner-rock terrain towards the more recognisable synth-pop sound of recent memory, Parker has proved his capacity to embrace change and simply what feels right despite his omnipresent fears of making the wrong thing. This consideration makes the mixed at best and exceptionally brutal at worst reception to his fifth studio album Deadbeat, released on 17 October, all the more disappointing.
Deadbeat‘s first single ‘End Of Summer’ debuted on new ground sonically for Tame Impala. The song begins a stark, reinventing genre shift to a sort of progressive house: a style likely inspired by the collaborative minds of Justice through which Parker worked with on their latest LP, as well as the Australian bush doof scene which inspired him.
This single, much like the project it resides in, landed on undeniably coarse terrain for die-hard fans, who were wanting and expecting a continuation of his multi-instrumentalist synth-based dream-pop work. Comments claiming he forgot how to play guitar, or that he forgot how to make good music entirely, flooded the replies of “the first thing [he wanted us] to hear“: a rough look for the album as a whole.
Many forget it’s not the first time this has happened. Currents‘ 2015 touchdown came as a earthquake to fans of his psych-rock, loner-pop sound of the early 2010s, and reviews on the project were confused on how to feel — much like we see here.
After many listens since the full release, reception is polarising, positioned along a broad spectrum from “This is terrible” to “Kevin Parker is our modern-day Jesus Christ”. However, Deadbeat has evolved, listen after listen, from something repugnant as a long-time fan to something kind of great. Witnessing many of the same maturing thoughts online coalesce has been exciting. While many have already planted the flag regarding a hateful stance on Deadbeat, letting your thoughts be fluid should be encouraged, just like Parker’s musical trajectory.
Deadbeat turns Tame Impala to the dancefloor, an environment he’s traced the margins of on previous LP The Slow Rush, yet never quite fell onto. Opening with reflective piece ‘My Old Ways’, the album does itself no favours for many in its endless thematic comparability to his post-Lonerism work. The motifs of being truly honest with oneself, admitting ones faults and anxieties, exploring relationships, and falling “back into my old ways again” exemplify iconic Tame Impala tunes like Currents‘ revered closer, ‘New Person, Same Old Mistakes’. Still, this track is a great launch with a particular brief but barraging flurry of synths giving the gateway to the full project some optimism.
Second track ‘No Reply’ is a sharp turn into the percussive anxieties of Tame Impala’s psyche, transforming into a sombre and open piano piece that sounds almost broken. Never is the album Kevin Parker at his best, but it is always him at the apex of his professional honesty. Where his previous albums have had a generalisable emotional appeal, perhaps following a break-up or a great shift, Deadbeat, and this song particularly, lets you into the world of exclusively Kevin Parker more than ever.
Parker’s stripping back of the analogue instruments that made him soar, shifting to drum machines and dancier grooves, is an interesting environment to spill his insecurities more honestly than ever: not one anyone particularly wanted, though something he could absolutely crush. He’s gone on record to say this album just “feels right“, stating that repeating his same highlights over and over again wouldn’t be creatively interesting.
While droves of the Tame Impala fanbase have sworn this genre jump off as disposable already, returning to the warm hugs of Currents, letting it simmer uncovers a new perspective. Deadbeat isn’t Tame Impala’s peak, but the public consensus has rapidly metamorphosed in such a short period since release, and the emotional core nestled deep in the album’s groove-fuelled grit is something quite entrancing.
Tracks such as ‘Piece Of Heaven’ really demonstrate this, bringing a sort of atypical optimism to the loner-core synth ballads of Parker’s past. Whether it’s discussing love, music, or both, this song brings electronic, almost out-of-this-world bliss that really feels at home among his discography while highlighting how Parker’s life has shifted as much as his sound.
We also get the divisive ‘See You On Monday (You’re Lost)’: the worst-rated piece here critically despite personally finding it quite moving. The intersecting counter-melodies won’t be for everyone, neither will its slow pace, but the lyrics depicting an emotional whirlwind in an uncertain relationship are classic Tame Impala.
‘Afterthought’ later takes stage as the penultimate track and Tame Impala’s own favourite for its dancefloor grooves and interesting narrative about a neglecting partner in spite of it all. This one doesn’t reach the heights of the classics but feels the most homely on the track-list, flaking right off the sonic skin of The Slow Rush‘s ‘It Might Be Time’.
We then re-route back to leading single and album closer ‘End Of Summer’, a certifiable club hit even fit with a surprise feature from Dave Seville’s chipmunks at times. Using this as the doorway into a new dance era will be a frequently confusing decision, particularly as the psychedelic rocker era was waved goodbye in the outstanding debut of Currents‘ lead single, the electronic odyssey ‘Let It Happen’. While it’s almost undoubtable that this song will ever reach those high heights, it has still grown on the fanbase as time has done its thing.
Deadbeat is a bizarre output; a highlight of the dance floor, a gift to the bush doof scene that inspired Parker in his Aussie origins, but the critics don’t find it holds up in the cans. A Tame Impala of old would have questioned everything after this, but the matured rendition of his self that we hear in this release has embraced the critical kaleidoscope barraging him, even directly responding in a few fashions. Commentating on Deadbeat‘s dynamic, transforming cultural position seems more interesting than simply reviewing — one that seems set to age like the grooviest of fine wines to those who let it in.
