Impala have a pretty tasty set of horns, all twisty and shit. If I wasn't a veggie, I'd go and hunt one right about now. But this band ain't no antelopes, they're men. Real men. From Perth and everything.
They open the EP with 'Desire Be Desire Go', a song that rocks you, gently, with the vocals sounding like they've come via time travel from some sixties acid test. It is, ich, pretty darn groovy. But in a very good way.
The production seems to take influence from Ariel Pink's school of 60s production in a digital age, but it suits the psychedelic feel of the music. Everything feels like it's emerging through a smoky haze in a paisley drenched room. It also leads to the band feeling a bit like Times New Viking if they regressed a few decades.
The band seem to meander on 'Skeleton Tiger' lost in what feels like an endless jam at times, before the melodies re-emerge from under the throws for an all to brief . It seems a strange choice for a single, particularly when compared to 'Half Full Glass Of Wine', which revolves around a simple guitar riff and rollicks along like a less virtuoso Hendrix.
'41 Mosquitoes Flying In Formation' is even better, the riff sounding that little bit off kilter. Tame Impala sound a little raw, the songs all full of quirks and departures down the garden path into technicolour nooks and crannies.
It enlivens what could be seen as 60s pastiches into something much more interesting. There's even a fucking sitar on 'Slide Through My Fingers'. And it still sounds good. The interesting rough corners haven't been sanded down yet. Fingers crossed no one does. 4/5