ACL Review: Tame Impala

Rolling in from Perth, Australia, Tame Impala locked in and held down. Frontman Kevin Parker stared out into the 28 Flags over Texas (and a blow up doll), facing a virtual armada of bro. One with a snapback that read “Ahoy Fuckers.”

“Hey, hello hello,” opened the cordial frontman. His band, meanwhile, continued to submerge itself in rhythmic reverb. That led into a faithful but swallowed version of big (and long) indie smash “Let It Happen.”

The band wasted very little time inhabiting its playlist after that. “Mind Mischief” ran loose as a sped-up ballad rather than its original psychedelic funk-rock iteration. “Why Won’t They Talk To Me?” carried an uncharacteristically heavy-handed boom, while the hulking, road-grating “Elephant” stopped conversations by stacking Hammond organ and drum solos.

R&B bouncers “The Less I Know the Better” and “'Cause I’m a Man” provided a welcome and danceable change up from the ‘shroomed beginnings. As people packed up, the fitting “Feels Like We Only Go Backwards” serenaded those filing away. Fortunately, veritable new classic “Apocalypse Dreams” closed the set on the highest note possible.

The lone negative was the light and effects show, which seemed to pay unusually deep homage to Microsoft Windows 98 screensavers and the default sound visuals found on its native media player.