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Parker does the same, opting for a near eight minute behemoth brimming with anticipatory lyrics beautifully punctured with moments of fragility. Previous opening tracks of sparkling ambition, namely Ride’s ‘Leave Them All Behind’ and Public Image Limited’s ‘Theme’, were coruscating statements of intent showing each bands’ artistic and lyrical prowess over lengthy musical workouts. On song after song, instruments interlock seamlessly, creating debauched new soundscapes for the listener to bathe in. Nonetheless, what the album lacks in mystery, it more than makes up for in musical exploration. Irritatingly, a sizeable portion of the album, including opener ‘Let it Happen’, was revealed before the official release date, which dilutes the mystery of the album entirely.
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Talent borrows, genius steals.ĭisciples of riff-rage carnage like ‘The Bold Arrow of Time’ and ‘Half Glass Full of Wine’ will have to embark on an extensive period of readjustment, because there are no songs on Currents that summon the apocalyptic maelstroms those tunes of yore do so emphatically. Parker does just that, remoulding the bespectacled Beatle for a new audience. The beauty of rock and roll is based on, as Noel Gallagher rightly said, retelling the story repeatedly for successive generations, so that dormant sounds can be repackaged for new listeners. This is not, however, a reason to criticise Parker’s artistic trajectory from Tame Impala to Currents. Upon first hearing Tame Impala, one will no doubt think that the deceased Beatle sounds amazing for somebody who’s been dead for over thirty years. Notwithstanding accusations of shameless reinvention, Parker’s expert imitation of John Lennon’s voice is one aspect that hasn’t changed. Though the inspirations might terrify those who view the guitar as the only sacrosanct source of music, Parker channels his inspirations through a psychedelic technicolour lens, before garnishing them with a glistening, shoegazing aesthetic that should comfort sectarian music fascists. Indie kids duly clutched their Kooks shaped talismans for protection, fearing infection from irradiated sources. 2014’s sumptuous cover of Jacko’s ‘Stranger in Moscow’ proved prophetic, rather than Parker dabbling in extra-curricular activities. The Tame Impala himself revealed that influences spanning the likes of Britney Spears, Michael Jackson and ABBA permeated the album, sending cries of ‘no!’ and ‘shame!’ across the indie spectrum. On Currents, Parker has almost entirely forsaken guitars and shrouded himself in the cloak of the disco. The crunching riffs of their early work, most notably 2010’s mauve and turquoise hybrid of squall and groove Innerspeaker, gave way to the synth laden, psychotropic odyssey that was 2012’s Lonerism, an album on which Parker delved into the aural crevices of texture, space and the sound of colour. From 2008’s ‘Tame Impala’ EP to Currents, he’s constantly challenged listeners’ expectations around what musical path he’ll glide down next. Parker’s musical journey has been far more engaging than most of his contemporaries. By the end of the listening experience, I had just about come back to earth in one piece. Without any hesitation, Tame Impala silkily infiltrated my capillaries, and it felt like I was floating inside a giant lava lamp. ‘Just let it happen, let it happen’, Kevin Parker croons on Currents’s first track, mystifyingly called ‘Let it Happen.’ A warm rush cradles you gently, luring you in with a plume of chocolate grooves, caressing vocals and licentious melodies.