6/10
Tame Impala’s fifth studio album, Deadbeat, debuts a scanty deviation from the group’s esoteric and gilded musical rhythm into a beat-dominated and EDM-reminiscent album. Unmistakeably, Tame Impala’s 2015 Currents and 2020 The Slow Rush—which feature the exhilaration and disillusionment singer songwriter Kevin Parker is known for—are difficult to match. Not only does Deadbeat continue this feeling, but it also shifts from Parker’s psychedelic rock era into a melancholy synthpop and techno approach. Even with Parker’s relaxed vocals, Tame Impala’s latest release—a decade after Currents—is far from “deadbeat,” instead offering a dynamic conflation of percussion and synths.
While immersive rhythms guide many tracks, some songs remain a bit uninspired. The soul-deprived nature of many tracks causes the album’s songs to be thrown on the back of the queue in favor of the band’s more engaging tunes.
Aided by oscillating beats, Parker immediately jumps into the album’s multi-layered mix in “My Old Ways,” which is easily the best track. Parker places listeners in what feels like a dimly lit club as they are swept into the group’s intimate performance. Distant and echoey vocals are paired with Parker on the piano until a beat drop transforms the song into a pendulation between obscure lyrics and overpowered beats. “Wish I had someone else to blame, well / I tell myself I’m only human,” he sings. The track drifts between the loosely-flowing piano and a strong, commanding rhythm that gives “My Old Ways” its catchy, nod-along cadence.
Parker’s emotional hangover in Deadbeat marks a shift away from the distant introspection we get in Innerspeaker and Lonerism, and into his publicized renewal of childhood traumas and insecurity. Following the recent birth of his second child and newly-awarded Grammy, Parker still manages to openly discredit his own smashing success as Tame Impala’s writer, recorder, performer, and producer. To put it simply, Parker views himself as a deadbeat. Deadbeat captures the resignation to the “perils” of his childhood personality, fused with his intense love for songwriting—and a strong drink with a side of marijuana.
“Dracula” follows as a close second and it does in fact “vamp” up exactly what you’d expect from Deadbeat’s ominous, synthpop style. Parker’s third single steps away from the album’s somewhat serious EDM tone, encapsulating the spookiness of the notorious dracula as Parker narrates an anxious escape from the sun. Blending Australian rave music with party-centric lyrics, “Dracula” takes on an instrumental, multi-layered rhythm that makes the track so catchy. “I’m on the verge of cavin’in, I run back through the dark / Now I’m Mr. Charism, f**kin’ Pablo Escobar,” he sings, hinting at the danger of power with the name-drop of the notorious Colombian drug lord.
“No Reply” and “Oblivion” is where the album starts to lose its listeners. Despite featuring meshy, smooth rhythms, they are complemented by lyrics that don’t do much for the song. “Oblivion” harbors mumbled verses while “No Reply” conflates consistent, melancholy lyrics with distant and echoed beats. Though the piano’s brief return complements the latter nicely, they still fail to amount to the album’s top bangers.
Parker’s multifaceted production provides for an expansion upon Tame Impala’s house-driven, dubstep music—which is undoubtedly advanced by Parker’s divine, warm voice. Evidently, “Piece of Heaven” works an inviting and impassioned track through Parker’s innovatory songwriting skills—his transformative lyrics leave imprints on the mind after each listen. “Now possibilities I’d never considered / Are occurring the likes of which I’d never heard / Now an angry soul comes back from beyond the grave / To repossess a body with which I’d misbehaved,” he sings.
“Obsolete” is within the same realm. Parker wants listeners to feel just as dreadful as he does—reptitions of losing hope, becoming jealous, and overall insecurity just add to Deadbeat’s solemn tone. “Always was so easy hanging out / But it sure doesn’t feel like that now / I know that you have been feeling rough / Or are you falling out of love?” he sings.
Every track’s introduction rarely matches the song’s overall atmosphere. A swaying, upbeat start transforms into a combination of pre-recorded interludes and Parker’s high-pitched falsetto on “Piece of Heaven.” On the same note, “Not My World” begins with the similar echoed, distant voice as “My Old Ways,” but switches to a lyricless synth bassline and monotonous mixture of EDM beats by the end.
“Loser” enters the album with a somewhat vibey—and chilling—musical step. With Julien Barbagallo on drums, the album’s second single and pre-released song abandons lyrical depth, instead choosing instrumental breaks and distant vocals. The drawn-out chorus works with Parker mewling, “I’m a loser, babe / Do you wanna tear my heart out? / I’m a tragedy / Tryna figure my whole life out.”
Starting off mellow, but quickly building up into a ballad of unrequited, fractured love, “See You On Monday” features Parker’s gentle, fuzzy vocals that just barely dip into his ache over rejected love. While the lyrics remain surface-level, Parker guides listeners with a pining warmth that melts into the song’s mollifying beat. “End Of Summer” follows suit, finishing off the album with a nostalgic, but heavy electronic cadence that creates a multilayered listening experience with Parker’s voice. The track—another hypnotic listen—mixes in high-pitched whistle tones, giving the finale a bit of a dissociated, illusory feel.
While some songs are forgettable, others most definitely made the playlist. Deadbeat trades Tame Impala’s mystique for a slightly absent-minded, but soulful and experimental dive into what melancholy synthpop looks like. The album is an immersive experience and easily envelops the mind without giving any thought to it—arguably a success with its house-dominated tracks, but a loss to Tame Impala’s well-known and loved introspection.
