The traditional, conservative view of rock music, it is said, is that “it peaked in 1967 and has been going steadily downhill ever since”. If so, then [a]Tame Impala[/a] are Norman Tebbit times Michael Howard. They’re constantly striving to pull up the drawbridge and whip us back to a half-imagined belle epoque that ended way too soon for longhairs of their slender years.
The days when men were men, women were girl-groups, and life revolved around expanding your dome via the classic power-trio psychedelic blues rock acts like [a]Cream[/a] and [a]The Jimi Hendrix Experience[/a]. Those guys – as gramps will tell you – those guys could really play.
Well Tame Impala can play too. They can play like no-one’s business. And as opposed to most updaters, who tackle this sort of
stuff from a flatfooted perspective, TI have understood that being virtuoso is a team sport: it’s all about the dynamics and interplay. Their multi-part duelling begins instantly – guitar, bass and drums orbiting each other in a complex, delicate synch, before Kevin Parker’s phased vocal comes over the psychedelic intercom to tell you your mind is about to be expanded, while long-time