You’re at a house party and you’re not sober. The music thuds through the walls as you slip into the bathroom, lock the door, and find yourself face-to-face with your reflection. The fluorescent light is unforgiving. You stare back at this person in the mirror and think: Who the fuck is this clown? But you’re not angry. You’re not having a meltdown. The drugs keep the emotions present but manageable, like they’re happening to someone else. Instead, you just stand there, locked in this moment of clarity that isn’t quite clarity — more like a psychedelic dissociation from yourself.

This is where Deadbeat lives, Kevin Parker’s latest album as Tame Impala . Throughout the project’s 56 minutes, Parker assumes the role of the man in the mirror multiple times, lamenting his constant fuck

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