STACK Jul #129

102 / 113

T hey say people never change/
but that’s bullshit,” sings
Kevin Parker on Yes I’m
Changing, a track on Tame Impala’s
new album Currents. The sentiment
likely doesn’t relate to music, but
there’s little doubt Currents finds the
now internationally renowned West
Australian in a state of flux. When I first
heard Tame Impala in 2008, they struck
me as the result of hip parents leaving
their Cream and Blind Faith albums
lying around for their kids to discover –
and that was no bad thing. While
Lonerism and Innerspeaker stylishly
and powerfully evolved the riffage,
Currents puts us on notice that that
incarnation of Tame Impala has soared
over some distant horizon, possibly
never to return. In its place is this
eclectic psychedelic confection – a
galactic space-pop album of sorts, not
nearly as daffy as Empire of the Sun,
nor as cooly removed as Daft Punk. It’s
a 13-track odyssey with plenty of fuzz,
fun, funk and futurism at its core. Kevin
Parker is Tame Impala, there’s no ‘band’
to speak of in any real way, barring the
live arena. He’s written all the songs,
played all the instruments, produced
the entire album, and mixed all the
tracks.
He’d probably shrink-wrap the
CDs and vinyl himself, if he could.
The shimmering clap/skip of Let It
Happen opens proceedings, with
Parker singing a near falsetto over
trippy keys before we disappear down
a rabbit hole that sounds like a disc on
pause with a Laurie Anderson outtake
on top. Eventually starts with a scratch
of plug-in feedback before thumping
into a slow spacey groove; Gossip is 55
seconds of guitar/synth noodling that
still sounds better than some artists’
finished tracks; while The Less I Know
the Better is another showcase for
Parker’s serious vocal smarts, and a
lazily infectious bassline. Past Life is a
great headphone listen, with Parker’s
slowed-down spoken narration a true
album highlight. Parker’s embraced a
multi-faceted future, and wholly. Only
his most conservative fans would
reject this adventurism: growing up is
hard to do, in public all the more so,
and it cruises more than it bruises,
certainly. Still a trip to take, even if not
the one you were expecting.
Jonathan Alley
JULY 2015 JB HI-FI
102
visit RPM MUSIC
REVOLUTIONS
PER
MONTH
Belters, Must-Hears,
Assorted Musical Wonders
and Other Curiosities
Tame Impala Currents
Nutshell Verdict
Kevin Parker creates the
new Tame Impala in a
million different walls of
sound.
STACK Picks
Past Life, Reality in
Motion, Let It Happen
(Universal Music)
To place Led Zeppelin’s posthumous
studio finale in context, there were
fans in 1982 who felt that Bonzo’s
Montreaux stretched the guvnors’
credibility one drum solo too far.
Jimmy Page’s reply? Bonzo’s Montreux
(Mix Construction In Progress), an
extended, dry version of the late Mr.
Bonham’s thunderous act of virtuosity
that stands like
finger in this las
hand of remaste
Zeppelin goodn
Essentially a dis
outtakes spanni
the previous 12
years, their mos
unloved album i
by any other rock band’s measure.
And the Deluxe Edition’s two bonus
discs make a fair bid for covering all
bases within and beyond their peerless
catalogue, from a blister-raw mix of
Walter’s Walk and a couple of fantastic
Bombay Orchestra sessions, to the
unheard heavy funk instrumental
St Tristan’s Sword. Coda may be a
footnote, but how many other bands
can boast barrel-scrapings as jaw-
dropping as these?
(Warner) Michael Dwyer
Led Zeppelin
Coda
The story goes that Jean-Benoit Dunckel and
Nicolas Godin attended the 1999 Cannes premiere
of Sofia Coppola’s gala feature film debut in smug
spirits, only to have their Gallic gasts flabbered
by a quiet act of score butchery in the editing
suite. Happily, both her film and their soundtrack
have lived on as cult classics, although it’s hard
to imagine either without the other. The spooky
monologue Suicide Underground remains a
jewel of atmospheric and brilliantly economical
storytelling, its climactic dignity reinstated on
this anniversary edition thanks to the entirely
appropriate omission of Heart’s Crazy On You. The
soporific trip haunts like Tubular Bells and grooves
and pouts like Melodie Nelson, from the unsettling
murmur of Playground Love to the disturbingly
evocative trifecta of Ghost Song, Empty House and
Dead Bodies. A couple of demos and a shuffled
live performance from LA in 2000 might be gilding
the lily, but they smell pretty sweet.
(Warner) Michael Dwyer
Air The Virgin Suicides
(15th Anniversary)
The problem with live recordings of acous
shows is the annoying “whoops” and
“yeahs” that inevitably greet the first few
chords of each song – some idiots labour
under the impression there’s a prize for
beating everybody else in recognising a
particular tune. This concert-goer is at the
fore at the beginning of this otherwise superb live solo acoustic
album from Ryan Adams, an abridged version of a mighty six-
disc limited edition earlier issued in the US. The good news is
that once old favourites such as Oh My Sweet Carolina and
New York, New York are out of the way, there are a smattering
of songs from his self-titled 2014 album, plus two previously
unreleased tracks – the lesser familiarity of which presumably
shuts them up. Audience aside, how does Ten Songs from Live
at Carnegie Hall stand up? This Is Where We Meet In My
Mind is a gently rolling ditty which owes more to English singer-
songwriters like Nick Drake than his trademark Americana, while
How Much Light is a breezy Neil Young-esque country strummer.
“I made this record and didn’t release it because I thought the
songs were kind of sappy,” he drolly explains. “Also because I
wanted an excuse to smoke weed for an entire year and hang out
in my studio.” Fair enough, but they both sound pretty damned
good in this setting. As for the three songs from Ryan Adams,
the Tom Petty-ish rockers Gimme Something Good and Kim
certainly benefit from the stripped back acoustic treatment, while
other highlights include lovely weary takes on Come Pick Me
Up from his first solo set Heartbreaker, and Nobody Girl from
Gold. However, as good as Ten Songs is, it does leave you
wanting more – let’s hope a longer CD, vinyl or even DVD version
materialises sometime in the future. (Sony) John Ferguson
Ryan Adams Ten Songs
Live at Carnegie Hall