Tame Impala: Filling the Void

Mick Jagger said he would call at 8 p.m.; the phone rang right on time. Kevin Parker, also known as the mastermind behind the Perth, Australia-based pulsating rock ‘n’ roll project Tame Impala, answered. Without even an assistant to formally introduce the two, there was Jagger’s voice – and the legend it belonged to was ready to discuss a remix for a song on a recent solo record. 

“It was surreal,” Parker says. “But (Jagger) made it easy for me because he was so nice. We talked about the song and how he wrote it and we talked about what I could do with it. We had a couple of phone calls. I was expecting someone to connect the calls but it was just him, like, ‘Hello!’” 

Parker highlights the uncommon interaction on one of the more poignant tracks from the latest Tame Impala record, The Slow Rush, released on Feb. 14. The song, “Posthumous Forgiveness,” is about his deceased father, who first introduced Parker to music, playing guitar around the house and listening to favorite artists during car rides. The track represents the two sides of Parker’s relationship with his dad. One side of the song is drenched in remorse and the other settled, resolved. 

“My dad was a musician,” Parker says, “not by trade, but he loved to play. He was that person who would play acoustic guitar and sing in the house. He was quite comfortable singing and playing covers.” 

On “Posthumous Forgiveness,” which at times throbs and at other times floats, Parker laments about how he couldn’t tell his father about the phone call with Jagger. “Wanna tell you about the time,” he sings in John Lennon-like falsetto. “Wanna tell you about my life. Wanna play you all my songs. Learn the words, sing along …” Parker later mentions Jagger by name and one instantly understands the pang of remorse he must have felt singing to the memory of his papa. 

“In terms of me baring my soul on a song,” Parker explains, “I’ve been doing that more and more since I started to record albums. I’m used to it now, in a weird way. That (‘Posthumous Forgiveness’) was so personal made it almost easier for me because I didn’t have to use my imagination.” 

While mining intimate personal experiences and stories has become easier, Parker says it’s also become more and more thrilling. 

“In a way, it’s addictive,” he says. “Carving out a piece of yourself and putting it in a song – the reward is so great. It’s something I’d never realized, how that kind of thing could feel so satisfying. That’s one of the values of music and one of the values of songwriting.” 

For Parker, who began playing the drums at 10 years old, making music has always been satisfying. Though constructing songs and recording them on the primitive multi-tracking cassette tape system he developed as a pre-teen was the most gratifying thing he’d ever experienced up until that time, Parker says he didn’t share any of his sonic creations for at least five more years. He was reserved, he says, not excited to show what he’d been making to friends or family.

“I never had the interest to play it to anyone,” he says. “More so because I was quite shy in that regard. I just – I didn’t need anyone else to hear it to enjoy doing it.” 

As Parker began to learn drums, he had to move residences and was forced to leave the music school in which he attended. Without the regular regimen of classes, Parker turned to his crude-but-useful home studio and worked, treating the layers of sounds he created almost like puzzle pieces. 

“Recording was like playing music crossed with Legos,” he says. “And ever since then, that hasn’t really changed. It hasn’t changed in concept really since then.” 

Music, for the dreamy-voiced, two-time Grammy nominee, also fills an existential hollowness that nothing else could in its stead. 

“It definitely fills the void,” Parker says. “Music is something that makes my life make sense, which is why I attach myself so close to it. It’s the source of my sense of self and sense of purpose. It’s what I do to feel good about myself. I don’t have much else I have pride in myself for – I’m not good at swimming.” 

After sharing songs in his later teenage years, Parker began to play with other aspiring musicians, including future members of Tame Impala’s touring group. In 2005, around the age of 20, Parker formed the band The Dee Dee Dums, which would become the basis for his famous project. He’s also since played in other bands like Pond, Mink Mussel Creek, Canyons and Melody’s Echo Chamber.  

But The Slow Rush, Tame Impala’s fourth studio LP, is maybe his most complete work. The effects-laden record is a genius smash success. Its 12 tracks are layered, textured and rich with self-reflection amidst soaring melodies. It’s new in its tenor but includes the musical gems that have made Parker such a beloved artist. His voice, though he is based in Australia, sounds like it was born and raised in Liverpool. It’s a breeze on “Lost In Yesterday.” It’s a charming whisper on “Glimmer.” 

Other already-classic tracks include “On Track,” on which Parker assures us that, despite the burdens and expectations of music, he can be trusted to keep the efforts moving forward. On the album’s final song, “One More Hour,” Parker is reticent to commit to more. He sounds almost like a boxer, near exhaustion, ready for one last round with his opponent. “How could I love again?” he wonders. “How could I ever ask for more?”

Like previous Tame Impala records, The Slow Rush has a beautifully arranged musical topography. There are steep sonic cliffs, big falls, choppy melodic waters, warm light and soft air. The album is an amalgamation of The Weeknd, Kanye West, The Beatles and DJ Shadow. And, Parker says, though it was a necessary and beneficial act, making it was nevertheless laborious. 

“It’s a huge burden,” he says. “But at the end of the day, I guess it’s not really anything compared to the burden I put on myself.” 

For the latest release, Parker put the pressure on himself to get better at playing the piano and other keyed instruments. On past records, he’d only include “sweeping” and “spacey” sounds that evolved throughout a song “quite slowly.” But on the 2020 album, Parker worked in more rhythmic playing, including harder hits with a more distinct application. While he says this showed up throughout the entire work, it might be most obvious on the song “Breathe Deeper,” a track perfect for a New York City B-boy breakdance routine. 

Four records in, Parker has some perspective on a career that began in earnest some 25 years ago. Maintaining a sense of appreciation is important for the capable artist, especially as time passes and he ages. Always keeping a sense of his own mortality in the back of his mind, Parker, in his music, thinks about what it will be like to look back on a given time or experience and wonder how will it feel viscerally, in hindsight.

“Like everyone,” he says, “I’m afraid of getting old. But I also like the idea of realizing that you’re young now, but you won’t always be. I find there’s a romance in that, realizing that the times you’re having now won’t last forever. Whatever we’re doing right now, whether good or bad, will be something we wish we could do again later on in the future.” 

This sentiment might be especially heightened in Parker’s mind as a result of the tragic wildfires that have destroyed much of the country-continent of Australia where he grew up and still lives. Much of the eastern part of the region, Parker says, has been devastated and while Perth, where he resides, is safer in western Australia, the suffering and loss is felt throughout the nation even weeks after fires burned much of the coastline. 

“It’s still hectic here,” he says. “In Perth, it’s far less bad. But it’s a different story on the other side of the country. It’s awful.” 

But there is some relief found in the smaller victories in life, and Parker has found that in the release of his new record, just as the record has assuredly provided relief to his many Aussie fans. For even if Parker will think fondly of the interviews and album tours and everything else after they have passed, they can still be tiresome, especially when you want your music to stand on its own. But now that the music is released, Parker is pleased. 

“It’s huge,” he says. “The lead up to a release can be a tense time. You just want the album to be out, you want everyone to hear it. Talking about it is fine, it builds the anticipation. But it’s a relief to have it in the real world and to let the music finally speak for itself.”