Released July 17, 2015
8.5 / 10
Favorites
Let It Happen; Yes I'm Changing; Eventually; Past Life; Reality in Motion; New Person, Same Old Mistakes
Least favorites
'Cause I'm a Man
The central role of guitar in Tame Impala's songwriting seems to have run its course, as the band decisively embraces synth-led compositions on "Currents". And by band, I mean Kevin Parker, band frontman and the only person credited with writing and production on the record. There's an organic flow to the newer artistic direction, where psych pop, soft rock, R'n'B, hip-hop skitters and dance music all make sense in the same room. Parker has rejected the description of the album as a break-up record, pointing out that it encompasses so much more. And such is the case with pretty much any music: just try and find a collection of tracks that can be satisfyingly reduced to a single qualifier. Yet there is so much in both the lyrics and music that can be traced back to the idea of transformation and more particularly the idea of doing away with a set of circumstances and the transitional state of moving on. There is a great deal of emotional power throughout the tracklist as Parker accepts weakness, dealing with what it means to be alone - a running theme in the band's discography; "Lonerism" isn't their second LP's name for nothing. Nonetheless, the emotional potency doesn't chip away at the precision of the execution - "Currents" is remarkably clean if not for one track, Past Life where the rough touches are key contributors to its effectiveness. It's hard to believe that Parker just let the pearly synthesizers, masterful layers of vocal harmonies and audaciously propulsive bass 'happen': "Currents" sounds like it took incredible skill to craft, complete with full-bodied melodies and vivid arrangements. A testament to the suggestive power of one of the mainstream's boldest moves in recent years, the album takes the listener through thunderclaps and quiet storms, looking back only to move forward under dazzling neon lights and the occasional sun ray.
Parker learns to let go, to listen to his psyche's undercurrents and not let himself overthink and dread whatever the future has to bring. He's teaching himself not to be reluctant to follow instinct to avoid paralyzing calculations. Let It Happen best exemplifies his decision to stop fighting himself. Just as the music suggests, the sound decision put forward is the surrender to the flow of life. Parker artfully conveys the pointlessness of always pursuing the next and the next thing with simple but effective imagery ("all this running around trying to cover my shadow"). There's also a running theme of not trying to resist the inevitability of change, perfectly embodied by the lines: "I heard about a whirlwind that's coming 'round / It's gonna carry off all that isn't bound / And when it happens, when it happens (I won't be holding on) / So let it happen, let it happen". The track's bridge features processed vocals that were recorded as a placeholder at first: in an interview with Under The Radar, Parker admitted not being able to re-create the same groove as the original take so he chose to keep his nearly speaking-in-tongues take in, despite lyrics that contradict the song's message. In essence he chose to act on the song's mantra, letting the bridge fall into place without overthinking its thematic adequacy. Let It Happen is a stellar opening to the album, a near 8-min groove where electronics fade in and out, dipping its toes in a plethora of styles, toying with volume and pushing the needle towards repetition. The instrumental break is a personal highlight, particularly the moment where the half-second loop stuck on repeat is augmented with strings that become themselves stuck on a loop at the same time before the beat comes in from under and restores order into the mix. The Moment expands the theme of the intro by adding the need to follow instinct as part of the "letting go" toolkit. Following Nangs's existential dread it suggests those moments of self-doubt should be short-lived, requiring you to push through whatever situations you find yourself in. The effervescent track is alive with a microcosm of its own, relentlessly moving forward and reverberating into infinity. It goes through significant contrasts in musical density, with finger snapping pauses and harsh drums. The song leads into Yes I'm Changing, a window overlooking a stream of consciousness going through the transitional state from the intensity of a romantic relationship into an uncertain but hopeful future: "There is a world out there / And it's calling my name / And it's calling yours, girl". The soothing vocal delivery softens the blow of Parker's uncanny bluntness ("They say people never change / But that's bullshit, they do"), hypnotizing the listener to the sound of the dreamy soft-rock power ballad. The track really embraces the idea of seeing the end of something as the start of something else - seeing life events in a continuum validating the needed premise for the formulation of the 'going with the flow' thesis. Percussions lead the way, with ambient synths in their direct trail. This last chorus is also full of honking vehicles - subtle at first - adding a light dose of chaos on top of the order of the harpsichord synth pattern. Eventually opens with a bang, both sonically and lyrically: Kevin sings "If only there could be / Another way to do this / 'Cause it feels like murder / To put your heart through this" to hard-hitting bass. The title is loaded with meaning, removing the notion of a fixed time frame from the healing process while still throwing out crumbs of hope and faith in the outcome, 'all in due time' - don't force it, just 'let it happen'. No wonder the word is highlighted so brightly in the chorus. An instrumental breakdown occurs right before the second verse, giving room to breathe with drowsy electronic shimmers. Drums brings the listener back down from the reverie associated with the dizzying possibilities opened by the concept of 'eventually' and the subdued instrumentals. After all the experience described is not a hypothetical, it's very much rooted in reality.
Even the realization that you can become your own worst enemy is not enough to completely stop self-doubt from rising to the surface and hampering your potential as you put yourself out in the world. Nangs is the first of those moments filled with hesitation, in the form of a very dramatic existential doom loop of "But is there something more than that?" after what sounds like the inhalation of hallucinogens. The high is short but intense - just like the one you'd get from laughing gas, the inspiration behind the title; Australian slang for the recreational drug. The Less I Know The Better, the track best received by the masses, sees Parker hearing of another man going out with the woman on his mind. He can't make up his mind, expressing wanting to move forward (ending the chorus with "So goodbye") and being tempted by the woman's vacuous promise of "eventually" ending up together ("I said, 'Better late than never, just don't make me wait forever'"). The music's progression makes it easy not to focus on lyrics, making a critic's job especially rewarding as you uncover layers you might have not paid attention to! It's not the most thrilling song on the record, but perhaps the most accessible. Reality in Motion is a candid account of what happens in your mind as you decide to make the first move to approach someone. The track won me over as it progressed the first time I heard it. It has more of the fuzzed-out 60s vibe that "Lonerism" was entrenched in. Vocals are meshed in so close to the synth, reverberating in an echo chamber meant to blur the boundaries between the track's layers. There's an almost climactic quality to the song that resolves oh-so-satisfyingly. Love/Paranoia also addresses moments where overthinking paralyzes Parker to an extent. It explores the insecurities that can come with intense attachment - pretty accurately summarized in the two-word title. He opens up, unafraid to sound overly dramatic: "I've heard those words before / Are you sure it was nothing / Cause it made me feel like dying inside". The song pulsates to the sound of background vocals used like synths, filled with piercing drums. It feels to me like a patchwork of many patterns heard earlier on the album, thrown and massaged to play well together - and they do.
No one said it was easy. "Currents" is also the scene of an intense tug of war between Parker's old and new selves. In Past Life, parker sees a former lover by chance, triggering and emotional descent into weakness, trying to rationalize reaching out to the girl who he initially denies still having feelings for but ends up confessing "you're not a stranger if you're always on my mind". The low-pitched part of the dialogue sounds slightly ridiculous - perhaps reflecting the absurdity of denial. The spoken word section moves to a choral echo chamber of dewy R'n'B with a grainy saturated bassline - almost like an interference between past and present. It suggests looking at the past to inform the present, and justify decisions that you know to be unjustifiable, is a source of unwanted noise. Parker is even more forthright in 'Cause I'm a Man, dropping jaw-dropping gems like "I'm just pathetic" along the way. His vocals are clearer than on most other tracks on "Current" but that's pretty much the only notable feature of the musical fabric. The synth and bass combination doesn't bring anything fresh to the table at this point - the track suffers from its placement on the album, clearly. It's a shame that it feels much longer than Let It Happen while being half as short in reality.
"Currents" ends with New Person, Same Old Mistakes, cautioning the listener and himself against taking this "New day, new me" speech too literally. As he's proven along the album's progression, the old sporadically shows up amidst the new - there isn't as clear-cut a before/after as one could've thought after hearing Yes I'm Changing. The choice of words matters here: Parker said "I'm changing", not "I'm changed". There's an ongoing process that the record hypothesizes never really runs its course. In the final track, Parker is having a last conversation with himself. He packs in quite the musical punch with an astonishing instrumental before the outro and a final re-iteration of the chorus that you don't want to miss a drop of. If the same old mistakes keep inspiring new approaches to making their music, is it wrong of me to hope the band doesn't find all the answers they need right away?
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