“I thrive on [isolation] because it’s extremely recharging for me.” This is what Kevin Parker explains to Zane Lowe when speaking on his “anathema” need to be alone. To work and to think in total isolation. This “phenomenon” being the type of shit the absolutely terrifies most people. Mainly because most people are too afraid to “be alone with themselves” and dare to find out “what’s inside” if left without the proverbial noise of others for too long. But what Parker is saying is a common motif among artists, and especially solo musicians. Case in point, Marina Diamandis and Lorde, who have both spoken on their need to retreat from the world for a long period of time (for Lorde, that period usually amounts to four years) after enduring the promo and touring aspect of putting out a record.
As for Parker, the need for isolation isn’t just about recharging, but having enough silence (ergo, enough peace) to ruminate and “catch” an idea. This is why Parker is constantly searching for and renting out Airbnbs wherever he can find them along the coastline, telling Lowe, “I find where there are places as close to the water as you can get. I want to be fucking right there.” This not only to pick up on the “white noise” of nature, but also because, as he puts it, “Staring out at the abyss, especially at nighttime or, like, at the end of the day, staring at the ocean, for me, is just, um, it helps me get lost and it just, there’s a tranquility that comes along with it, and an inspiration.” In other words, it puts one’s own insignificance into perspective. As it does, by the same token, to be milling around aimlessly in New York City.
This being one of the primary (and symbolic) locations that Parker is featured in for the latest single and video from Deadbeat, “My Old Ways” (which just so happens to be the album’s “kickoff” track). Teaming again with Sam Kristofski (who also directed the “Loser” video), the video starts out in the studio, where Parker is, once more, in isolation mode. The studio setting is also a factor at the beginning of the video because, for the first minute of the song, there is a “made in the bedroom,” “analogue” quality to the intro: “So here I am once again, feel no good/I must be out of excuses, I knew I would/Feels like it came out of nowhere this time/Wish I had someone else to blame/I tell myself I’m only human/I know I, I said never again/Temptation feels like it never ends/I’m sliding, powerless as I descend.” This being the portion that Parker left “unvarnished” in its original iPhone recording incarnation before presenting the “polished” side of it once the beat drops just after the one-minute mark.
Throughout this buildup, gradually intercut images of the cityscape begin to appear. And then, at another point, a flash to a sticky note in the studio that reads, “Am I still on?” The question, of course, has a double meaning within the context, and there’s no doubt that some part of Parker is wondering if he himself is still “on” in the sense of maintaining his “gift” for making music of the same caliber as Currents and The Slow Rush. With Deadbeat, and especially “My Old Ways,” Tame Impala proves that he certainly has maintained it, even if that gift comes with its fair share of torture. Not least of which is having to be around any large amount of people for more than, say, thirty minutes. For the artistic, introverted soul, that’s nothing short of torture. Which is why, in many regards, it’s quite ironic that so many artists flock to New York, world capital of getting caught in a clusterfuck. Just as Parker does while walking amongst the crowds near 54th Street in what can best be described as his “Brooklyn attire.” Indeed, Parker stands out less for being “famous” in this Manhattan environment than he does for being dressed either for North Brooklyn circa 2012 or somewhere in New Mexico.
Walking the streets as though in a fugue state, Tame Impala sings, “Thought I would never go back, but just this once/A little present for holding out so long/I could not bear the thought of it two days ago/Don’t think I would forgive myself/I tell myself I’m only human/I know I, I said never again/Temptation feels like it never ends.” Such lyrics, of course, allow for a literal interpretation to “My Old Ways” in that it can clearly serve as an addict’s anthem. Whether the addiction is alcohol, especially “illicit” drugs, sex (think: Madonna’s auditory and visual rendering of Looking for Mr. Goodbar in the form of “Bad Girl”) or anything “taboo” in between. But it also works in the sense of a person who returns to behavior that they know is more insidiously—rather than overtly—bad for them. Sort of like Carrie Bradshaw (Sarah Jessica Parker, no relation to Kevin) musing at the end of Sex and the City’s “The Fuck Buddy” episode, “And just like that, I was thrown right back into my old pattern: greasy Chinese, sleeping till noon and feeling…restless.” This would be the perfect moment to cue “My Old Ways” as the credits roll. Particularly since Parker saw fit to set some of the video in Bradshaw’s beloved NYC.
However, at around the two-minute, twenty-six-second mark, Tame Impala essentially enters a “portal” (it’s just a door, but still) to another, sunnier coast. More specifically, the Margaret River area in Parker’s native Australia. Even though one would have liked to believe the location was California, seeing as how there would be a poetry to it. What with Parker having “officially” started the Deadbeat album while staying at one of his near-the-ocean Airbnbs in Montecito (that’s Santa Barbara, for the unversed). This tying back to what he told Lowe about being proper “obsessed” with the ocean. And also to the fact that, ultimately, his “old ways” are retreating into isolation when he’s spent far too much time in a place like New York. Oversaturated—sodden—with people as it is. And no ocean to speak of unless you’re really willing to schlep.
So it is that this sunnier coastal environment, as per the video’s delineation, is working out for him and his creative process far better than it seemed to be in such a heavily populated area without a readily available body of water (and no, “the Lake” of Central Park doesn’t really count). Kristofski’s subsequent rapidly intercut scenes of Parker sitting in contemplation inside his rather posh-looking “glass house,” or standing in front of the ocean with his arms outstretched as though summoning something (maybe the muse?), or a swoon-worthy sunset, or his painted phonograph all serve to create a kind of sensory overload. Thus, a kind of glimpse not only into Parker’s mind as he creates, but also into the mind of someone about to surrender to the temptation of returning to their “old ways.”
For Parker, the best kind of “old ways” for him to retreat into are those that find him in total isolation. Hence, ending the video with him sitting inside a cave-like rock with nothing but his musical accoutrements. While some might call such a way of life “unhealthy,” for Parker (and all those who have been affected by his music), it’s the only way to live. That is, when he’s not promoting an album with interviews and tours…
