Tame Impala, from left: Kevin Parker, Jay Watson, Dominic Simper, Nick Allbrook. Photo by Maciek Pozoga.

Hearing Tame Impala's primary creative mind Kevin Parker talk about isolation is like having an eskimo parse the nuances of snow. On the topic of "Solitude Is Bliss", a single from the band's 2010 breakout LP Innerspeaker, he says: "That was like bathing in the glory of being alone, like, 'How great is this? I'm alone!'" And how does that differ from Lonerism, the Australian psych-revivalists' forthcoming follow-up? "It's more like the process of discovering that it's in your blood to be wandering around on the outside of everything."

It's not surprising that Parker spends a lot of time by himself thinking about what it means to be by yourself. But while so much of Tame Impala's retro rock incubates by looping over and over in Parker's mind before ever making it to tape, the results are rarely self-indulgent or impenetrable. And despite being granted free artistic rein from his label, Modular, following the success of Innerspeaker, Lonerism-- which was once again mixed by studio guru Dave Fridmann-- might be tighter and more muscular than its predecessor. 

Jet-lagged after a flight from Paris, where he was working with his girlfriend Melody Prochet on her upcoming Melody's Echo Chamber album, he's back home in Perth, the biggest metropolis on Australia's relatively barren west coast. After the chat, I realized Tame Impala's music has much in common with the mind from which it emerges: warm and surprisingly focused, and willing to get a little cosmic if the situation calls for it. Listen to new track "Apocalypse Dreams" and read the interview below: 

Pitchfork: Do you find yourself unable to relate to most modern music, considering the more retro sounds that define Tame Impala?

Kevin Parker: I don't think the retro part comes into the storytelling, and one of the basic intentions of Innerspeaker was to make something like an electronic album-- it was disheartening the way people only heard the 1960s thing. But, at the same time, I just love to hear that gritty sound coming back at you; those 60s and 70s sounds have a fantastical effect on my brain just in the way that they're more distant and foreign. 

Pitchfork: Has your process changed between Innerspeaker and Lonerism?

KP: On this album, I had so much more time. With Innerspeaker, we had an engineer come in, we booked a location, we got a house-- it was all very official. With this album, it was just me in my home studio. I still had two other housemates, but Tame Impala paid for one of the rooms with the band account and all the money we got from festivals. I started so soon after finishing the last album, so it ended up being two years before the label was expecting to see something. There was time to experiment and completely indulge.

"I became obsessed with cheesy pop melodies-- 
we were in love with the idea that people would hate it."

Pitchfork: Was there any point within that indulgence where you thought, "This is too much"?

KP: Yeah, totally. Thankfully, those bits were culled from the final project. The big thing that was difficult to put a lid on was the excessiveness of really cheesy pop things. For whatever reason, I started to become obsessed with pop melodies and pop chord progressions. I fell in love with the disposable-ness of it. Maybe it was because we had suddenly become involved in this indie scene, and a part of my personality was trying to reject whatever environment I was in; we were in love with the idea that people would hate it. We just let ourselves go, doing these six-minute prog-pop pieces. We still have them-- we'll probably make them B-sides.

Lonerism album trailer:

Pitchfork: Are there certain sounds that don't have a place in Tame Impala?

KP: If I see a band I love, I always think, "They've got the right idea, we're doing it wrong. I gotta sell my shit out and do it like them." But by the time it actually comes to recording music, I don't consciously think of other bands. If I did, I'd feel a bit guilty about it. MGMT is probably a big one, because, before we even knew them, we fell in love with their album, and their pop sensibility had a big effect on us. Also, Mark Ronson. The first time I heard a couple of his songs, I fantasized the character that is Mark Ronson: this cool, sharply dressed producer guy. I can honestly say that I don't feel that influenced by anyone else, though, which is just cocky. I'm sure everyone says that.

Kevin Parker. Photo by Matthew Saville.

Pitchfork: Do you think being from Perth contributes, positively or negatively, to how Tame Impala works?

KP: About a year ago, I would've told you, "No, it doesn't fucking matter where you're from." But then I spent some time away from Perth, and it suddenly clicked to me in such a massive way how important it actually is. Perth has something completely different from everywhere else I've been. It's kind of like that thing: "Why is there life on Earth and not on any other planet?" It's because it's the right size and the right distance from the sun with the right minerals on it to suddenly make life.

And it's one of those things about Perth, too. It's far enough away from anywhere such that we don't really give a shit about anyone else, but it's close enough to everywhere else so that we know what's going on. And it's small enough so everyone kind of knows each other and has fun together. And it's spread out so you may as well throw some amps in your living room and set up some speakers and make a fucking racket every night; you may as well make some noise. And that makes for such a creative environment. There's not this quality control that goes on in other music scenes-- if your band sounds terrible, that's kind of like a plus.

"I've got a whole album waiting for Kylie Minogue!
That sounds like a joke, but I actually do."

Pitchfork: You worked with your girlfriend Melody Prochet on her Melody's Echo Chamber album; do you want to work with any other artists?

KP: I haven't really done much of that stuff yet because no one's asked me. But I'm open for business. I've got a whole album waiting for Kylie Minogue. [laughs] That sounds like a joke, but I actually do. I have, like, seven songs ready.

Watch the Pitchfork 3D video for Innerspeaker's "Why Won't You Make Up Your Mind?":