Tame Impala – Deadbeat

Tame Impala’s Deadbeat: the woozy dance of a cosmic burnout

So Kevin Parker’s back from his self-imposed exile: suntanned, slightly fried, and armed with Deadbeat. The name alone feels like a confession. And right from the first track, you can tell: this isn’t your chill “Lonerism” hangover. It’s a 3 a.m. comedown disguised as a warehouse party.

Blending rave-ready bass lines with that soft-focus, melancholy falsetto, Deadbeat feels like Parker finally took the bush doof scene seriously — but brought a therapist and a Juno-106 along for moral support. “End of Summer” slaps like a serotonin crash you can groove to, while “Loser” floats between heartbreak and euphoria like a disco ball lost in the desert.

“Deadbeat,” out now.

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Yet, somewhere in all that shimmering fog, cracks appear. The production’s flawless (as expected), but a few tracks sound like Kevin trying to please everyone. The psych-rock diehards and the Spotify algorithm. Still, when it hits like on “Velvet Nightmares”, it’s pure transcendence: cosmic, tender, a little broken, and fully alive.

Deadbeat might not be the perfect Tame Impala record, but it’s the most human one yet. Akin to a hazy dance with your own reflection, wondering if you’re still moving to the beat… or just catching your breath.

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