And so, Tame Impala’s evolution from riff-laden psych-mongers to dancefloor-fillers is complete. It’s undeniable from the opening drum machine on “One More Year” supplanting Kevin Parker’s trademark kit-work. The band’s music has always been built from the groove up, but now the head banging has been replaced with waves of rhythm that flow through the body. The Slow Rush is an apt name. This is an album that replicates the wash of a narcotic come-up. Unstoppable, inimitable, and highly addictive.
A sense of joyous adventure carries through the songs, less concerned with the destination than the journey there. The structures owe a debt to dance, starting with an idea that builds with instrumentation and variation. Just when you think you’re up to speed, you’re caught off guard by a drop of magic, from the breakbeat chorus of “It Might Be Time” to the competing wailing synths of “Posthumous Forgiveness”.
Parker has a magpie’s eye for genre, grabbing influences from across the world for his collection. There’s French nu-disco in “Borderline”, dancehall in “Is It True”, dramatic prog in “One More Hour”, and West Coast hip hop in “Breathe Deeper”. It might sound disparate, but holding this all together is that hallmark double-track vocal, smothering each song with melodic longing. There’s something so satisfying about hearing someone trust their instincts and push their boundaries.
Unlike previous releases, there are no immediate singles like “Elephant” or “Let It Happen”. But as a whole, this might be Tame Impala’s most complete album yet. In a telling moment, Parker sings “Strictly speaking, I'm still on track/And all of my dreams are still intact.” Gone are those themes of loneliness and heartbreak, this is an optimistic record, with moments of sunshine and starlight.
