Tame Impala - Currents

Tame Impala

Currents

Interscope, 2015

6.0

When Tame Impala released "Let It Happen" in early March, announcing the 2015 release of their third album and North American tour, it felt momentous: a band making the leap from "really good" to something special. Two albums of immaculate, distinctive, but relatively safe, psychedelic rock had cemented their place in the indie music consciousness and on the festival circuit, but the eight minute space pop roller coaster that somehow served as Currents' first single signaled that Kevin Parker and co. had something more ambitious planned than a third version of the same album.

Just as it was piece of the new album we heard, "Let It Happen" is the first thing you hear when you play the album, and it remains as thrilling now as it was on that March afternoon. It immediately tells you what to expect from Currents: approximately five times as many different synth sounds as guitar sounds (it's not until the 6-and-a-half minute mark that we hear our first guitar, playing a fuzzy riff that bounces sharply through the airy synth pads), more of Parker's falsetto than his full-voiced John Lennon impression, and Parker's entire growing arsenal of studio tricks, from the low pass filters that put the drums briefly underwater, to the breakdown that sticks the looping button in the "on" position to simulate the effect of a record skipping in time, while cinematic strings swell ominously upwards. It's an exhilarating joyride that weaves its way through time and space over its full eight minute runtime, but it's also the high-water mark of the album, and many of its most exciting implications go unexplored over the rest of an ambitious effort that ultimately feels like a big swing and a miss for an obviously talented creator. 

Parker is embracing the role he's always felt best suited for: producer, rather than bandleader. And Currents sounds more the work of a producer than a band: layered synths and finger snaps abound in place of Lonerism and Innerspeaker's trademark fuzzy drums and reverb-laden guitars. Parker had always done the majority of the work on Tame Impala's albums by himself, but on Currents he fully wrote, recorded, performed, produced, and mixed the album alone. Fundamentally, it's an album about change, the evolution of the band's sound explored obliquely through the loose narrative of the dissolution of a romantic relationship. "Let It Happen" sets the stage in outer space; "Nangs," Australian slang for nitrous oxide hits, floats back down through the upper atmosphere in a laughing gas-induced haze of intoxication, as Parker softly intones "Is there something wrong man?" over whirring synths and a sedate bassline, before fading out as quickly as a nitrous hit. "Moment" hints at "storm clouds approaching," while a bouncy drum beat bolstered by a clap track and an easy bass line rocks easily back and forth. It's the first moment on the album that's really representative of what's to come, establishing the 80s soul and pop groove that Currents leans on. "Yes I'm Changing" doubles down on this feel, settling into a slow R&B groove with glossy, shimmering synth pads, while Parker makes really, really sure everyone understands that people (and bands) change: "they say that people never change but that's bullshit / they do."

If Currents is a breakup record, then "Eventually" is the actual moment of division, and its emotional core. Unfortunately, like so many breakup talks, it's a clumsy mission statement. The chorus is intended to be the album's grand moment of catharsis, as Parker sings "But I know that I'll be happier / And I know you will too / Eventually" but it moves awkwardly,  mimicking the staggering gait of a shopping cart with a chunk missing from one wheel. It's still a massive moment of release and you can already picture the crowd's hand swaying in time to the slow drum beat, lit up by the multicolored lights of the disco ball, but it feels weirdly labored for a band to whom it always seemed to come so easily.

"Eventually" isn't the biggest whiff on the album, though: that goes to inexplicable single "'Cause I'm A Man," which is, musically, a slow burning R&B jam, and lyrically a lazy "boys will be boys" portrait of masculinity at best, and a misguided nod to the regressive bullshit of evolutionary psychology at worst. The chorus of "Cause I'm a man, woman / I don't think, I just do" is frankly cringe-inducing and there's nothing interesting enough to ignore the lyrics in favor of. Fortunately, it more evokes the concept of masculinity than it actually dives into analyzing it; as it is, it's the biggest misstep of the album.

This is the frustrating part of Parker's lyrics on Currents: there's little nuance and less specificity. Take "Past Lives," which skips ahead in the breakup narrative, to a point where Parker, narrating through pitched down vocals, has kind of come to terms and moved on ("I've got a pretty solid routine these days"), until he sees "my lover / from a past life" while picking up his dry cleaning and is jolted back into old memories and thoughts of rekindling his old romance. As with all of his descriptions of the breakup, his thoughts are familiar to everyone who has ended a relationship: "I mean, I don't even know if she has the same phone number...what's the worst that could happen?" This is basically everyone's breakup cycle and yes, that makes it easily relatable to the casual listener, but that also keeps it from being anything else, much less insightful or, well, interesting.

There are bright spots, though. On "The Less I Know The Better" a jaunty bass line provides some bounce and direction to the bright, glamorous synths that populate the rest of the album. It's easily the most successful take on the 80s soul and funk that Parker has splashed throughout Currents, owing largely to the vocal melody on the chorus as Parker sings "I was doing fine without you / til I saw your face," which serves as a reminder that Tame Impala's greatest strength has always been the ease Parker settles into the perfect melody that sounds both familiar and brand new. Special praise here is owed to Parker for recycling the bell synth leads from Siouxsie and the Banshees' "Cities In Dust" to great effect.

"Reality In Motion" provides a much-needed palette cleanser following "'Cause I'm A Man." The drum fills leading into the chorus, as Parker sings "there's no one else aROUND youuu" are vintage Tame Impala and another reminder of how good they are when they're on. "Disciples," driven by a catchy falsetto melody with AM radio style production that gets turned  on and off at the flip of a switch, feels like it has the same kind of potential, but fades out frustratingly quickly, before reaching the two minute mark.

The album trudges forgettably to its conclusion on "Love/Paranoia," which finds Parker still stewing in the ashes of his breakup with his many synth pads, and "New Person, Same Old Mistakes," which solidifies the album's theme of transformation through the ending of a relationship, emerging as a new person who is still not all that different from the old. There's an obvious application to the band's stylistic shift from guitar-driven psych rock to synth-laden R&B, soul, and funk, and you get the sense Parker is self-conscious about the change, going so far as to structure his album around justifying it. He clearly understood he would alienate the fans who just wanted Tame Impala to continue releasing the same album over and over again; these are the same fans who comment on YouTube videos of classic rock bands that no one makes "real music" these days. It feels a bit unnecessary; if the songs are good enough, the instrumentation and influences won't matter.

And ultimately, the songs are a mixed bag. Most frustrating are the three truncated interludes which hinted at quality songs buried, if fully explored. Releasing the two weakest tracks on the album as the second and third singles is just confusing. And then "Let It Happen" is still otherworldly, accompanied by other moments of brilliance scattered throughout the rest of the album. Currents isn't a classic and it doesn't need to be;  it's an intriguing if uneven exploration of new territory for Parker, whose future output will be better for having made this album.