Tame Impala "Lonerism" [2012]

Wow — you’d think “futurism” this ridiculously lame would have been over as of the original “Flash Gordon,” or at least Shat-man Era “Star Trek.” The year 2012 must have been a very tough one for music critics whose job it is to find something interesting to say about new music; by this time 20 years ago, the entire landscape had been re-done from coke-B.O. leather to flea-riddled flannel. But between Tame Impala’s “Lonerism” and things like Frank Ocean’s “channel ORANGE” — the difference here being the guy named after a body of water virtually drowned onstage at the Grammys — indie rock in the 20-teens is about as nutritious as eating smoke. When Tame Impala (which I guess translates from pretentious rockstar-ese to “dead meat,” otherwise “underperforming Chevy”) stops dicking around and gets to some actual songs, they tend to sound exactly like John Lennon’s heroin nods (all of them — they all sounded the same, which is why his 70s output was so shitty). Basically, Tame Impala exists on the same airy plane as MGMT — young kids engaging in unapologetic multi-track abuse (“What do you mean, people used to not record music on computers?”) and stumbling into “psychedelia” simply because they can’t stop themselves from drenching everything in too many effects. It’s beard rock for people too immature to grow beards. Apparently this spaced-out aesthetic has flown all the way down-under, from where Tame Impala hails. Sound like CO2 won’t be the only major issue concerning our global atmosphere for the next decade or so.