The Tame Impala concert in Madrid is the closest I’ll ever get to going to Tomorrowland. A few years ago, this statement would not have made any sense. How is a psychedelic rock show similar to the largest electronic festival in the world? After the release of ‘Deadbeat’, a lot.
Kevin Parker offers several concerts within the same recital, mixing the retro psychedelia for which he began to be known at the beginning of his massive career with the ethereal techno of his latest album. This mix of sensations could work against him, but the Australian is responsible for separating both worlds very effectively so as not to get anyone involved. At other moments, as with the cathartic ‘Let it Happen’, one realizes that those two worlds had always been there.
The first part, starting with ‘Apocalypse Dreams’, makes it clear that Parker eats records for breakfast. He does not need to change his tone or perform any filigree to adapt his hits live: the falsetto is totally real. This is a delicious surprise that continues while other fan favorites, such as ‘The Moment’ or ‘Borderline’, follow. At the same time, the focus is not on him – despite Tame Impala being a solo project – nor on the band that accompanies him. In fact, the stage on which they play is tiny. The huge thing happens in the rest of the room.
My position at the show was privileged, placed right in front of the action. Thus, the amazing visual spectacle that Tame Impala proposed managed to completely envelop me. I wouldn’t have enjoyed it in the same way if I had watched the concert from the sidelines. The Australian’s music is always associated with psychedelic drugs, for obvious reasons, but yesterday it was not necessary to be harmed in any way to feel in another universe. It came with the ticket. I’m talking about brightly colored lights, lasers that flood the Movistar Arena from top to bottom and geometric figures that could dazzle anyone. It was not the typical lighting of a rock show, but a small work of visual art, as protagonist as the melodies themselves. In this sense, the lighting technician was the MVP of the night. ‘
All this was thanks to a giant ring of light that hung from the ceiling and rotated and adopted new positions throughout the night, although it seemed that with each song new points of light appeared. In ‘Breath Deeper’ alone, for example, up to three different visual configurations were displayed. In ‘Elephant’, one of the Australian classics, the lighting was as crazy as the song itself. During ‘Nangs’, that section was so powerful that the entire track was illuminated with the screens of the audience, who couldn’t afford not to record what was happening. At the risk of sounding pedantic, I can only describe the lights in this song as heavenly. Even Kevin Parker himself took the opportunity to smoke a cigarette on stage while enjoying the interlude. It is true that the show did not reach these levels, at least at this point in the show, with the songs from ‘Deadbeat’. These seemed more focused on imitating the color palette of the cover: black and white. That is, boredom.
Halfway through the set, Kevin left the stage as the camera followed him across the screens. I joked that he would be pissing himself. That’s how it was. I don’t know how, but suddenly the concert went from total spectacle to a POV of a guy pissing in the bathrooms of the Movistar Arena. This change in tone brought forward the weakest part of the concert. Upon returning, Parker did not join his colleagues on the main stage, but dimmed the lights and went up to a small set, very close to the track and next to the technicians’ table, which imitated his room. With night lights and everything. He was in charge of playing and mixing the bases of ‘No Reply’, ‘Ethereal Connection’ and ‘Not My World’ live, as if it were an improvised boiler room. Now the protagonist was him. This was intended to be an intimate moment, a kind of glimpse into the creation process of ‘Deadbeat’, but it ended up being a pretty important rhythm break. We watched Parker play with his mixing board and sing while lying on the floor. “Is this the reluctance with which he made his last album?” I thought.
The one who seemed shy became completely uninhibited after the collective euphoria of ‘Let It Happen’. Until this moment, and despite thoroughly enjoying the concert, I had the feeling that Parker was in automatic mode. Then, he started making jokes about Vegemite (“I love you more”) and was really surprised by the beer delivery men at the Movistar Arena: “I haven’t seen this anywhere else,” he commented. He ordered a beer and drank it in one gulp. We are getting closer and closer to Tomorrowland.
The final third of the concert stood out for the performance of ‘List Of People (To Try And Forget About)’, which as I understood was the second time they had played it live; the return to pure psychedelic rock with ‘Expectation’, which transported us directly to Woodstock; and the display of the Australian’s biggest hits, such as ‘New Person, Same Old Mistakes’ and ‘The Less I Know The Better’.
The line between Tame Impala and Tomorrowland was totally blurred in this section, full of anthems, visual tricks and, above all, a feeling of togetherness that only the best electronica can offer. ‘Eventually’ was the religious experience of the concert, without a doubt. The final touch with ‘End Of Summer’, on the other hand, would put it ahead of any electronic festival. While the audience enjoyed the last dance steps, Parker was the most satisfied DJ in the world. Arms open and eyes closed. I stay here.
