Lonerism: Learning To Love Your Solitude, As Taught By Kevin Parker

photo by Matt Condon / @arcane93

I was around 15 or 16 and fully immersed in my hippie Tumblr phase when I first discovered Tame Impala. My hair was long, I stopped wearing makeup, and my dashboard was full of mountains and psychedelic patterns and happy hippies. It was pretty funny to be honest. I guess it was probably my initial “teenage rebel” phase, when I began to realize that I didn’t want to “fit the mould” as they say (lol). It was the height of the cringey “I was born in the wrong generation” mentality (I laugh but I’m still pretty much the same). Anyway, I remember the music video for “Mind Mischief” showing up on my dashboard and immediately falling in love with Tame Impala.

It was Kevin Parker’s vocals which so closely resembled those of John Lennon that drew me in initially -- a sound that I grew up on thanks to my mom’s affinity for The Beatles; but after listening to the rest of Tame Impala’s sophomore album, Lonerism, I realized my connection to this band was something beyond Kevin’s voice.

At this age I started to sense a profound disconnect between myself and the rest of the world. While I deeply loved and cared for the people around me, I felt more of a connection to nature at this time than anything else. I also realized how much being alone brought me a lot of happiness. During high school I’d spend hours alone in my room listening to records, reading books, making art, daydreaming and planning for a life of adventure. Tame Impala quickly became the soundtrack for my summer. My mom and I would go on drives for fun, and I’d play Tame Impala as we rode silently with the windows down.

There is something about this band that brings me back to myself every time I feel lost. Aside from the mesmerizing sound of the music itself, the lyrics to Kevin’s songs have become more and more profound to me over the years, the more I listen to them. Some people are afraid to be alone. Some people are afraid of themselves for many reasons -- some I will understand, others I will not. Some people are afraid to be different and choose a different, more difficult path for themselves. I have never been one of those people. I have always been headstrong, bold, and adventurous, and I really believe that this band came into my life at a perfect time. Because although I could dream up these big dreams of traveling around the world and creating whatever kind of life I wanted for myself, I needed a little extra courage to realize that I had to be willing to embrace solitude no matter what. Kevin’s lyrics made me realize that being alone is completely okay. He also made me realize that I am my own source of happiness, that people disappoint you but that it didn’t really matter if you stopped relying on others for happiness.

So yeah, to anyone reading this, this might just be another fan raving after their favorite artist, but needless to say Tame Impala has had a huge impact on my growth as an individual. It has been both an outlet for my frustrations and inability to understand the world around me, as well as a source of reassurance during these times that all the answers I’m looking for are already in me.

Can I separate the art from the artist?

Tw: r*pe and ab*se

Hi, let's get uncomfortable. Today I wanted to talk about an issue that I personally struggle with a lot, and I know a lot of music fans do too. It's the issue of whether or not we can separate the art from the artist.

Separating the art from the artist entails a lot of ambiguous boundaries. To what extent can I still support an artist who's been doxed for problematic or abusive behaviors? Does it make me a bad person if I still enjoy their music? I certainly don't think it's an issue as cut-and-dry as completely ceasing to listen to every single artist who's done anything wrong ever. We all know it's not as easy as that. To me, it's a matter of discretion, and putting ourselves in other peoples' shoes -- whether that be an artist who's trying to improve themselves from past behaviors, or a victim of an artist's abuse.

There are definitely artists that I cannot support in any way whatsoever because of how horrible their actions have been, and the fact that they've shown no remorse for said actions. The first person that comes to mind for me is XXXTentacion. I've gotten into some heated arguments over him, and I'll be honest -- I don't feel a bit sorry for the guy. If you aren't aware of who this is or what he did, you can read all about his abusive history on Pitchfork. A recently released voice recording revealed the rapper telling of his abusive exploits to his friends, where he says "I started f*cking her up because she made one mistake. Now she's scared. That girl is scared for her life." I won't go into the gruesome details of what X did to his girlfriend, but I do encourage you to research it for yourself to see how demented he was. It's clear that he showed no regret toward his actions, and I see no reason to support such an awful human being, even if he was shot and killed.

I think for me and many others, it's a lot easier to completely write off an artist when their actions are so horrible, or if we weren't a huge fan of their music in the first place. So what about behaviors that are less overtly horrific? What about our favorite artists -- what do we do when they've been exposed for abusive behaviors?

I could go on and on with artists past and present who've been known for sexually inappropriate, abusive, and/or otherwise problematic behaviors. John Lennon was a massive abusive douchebag to women. David Bowie slept with 13-year-olds as a grown man. Garrett Borns (aka BØRNS) was recently accused of sexual misconduct by several women. Brand New frontman Jesse Lacey had allegations brought against him in 2017 for predatory behavior. Over the past year or so, I've seen post after post on social media saying "Don't support this artist, they abused me."

So, here's my take. When people give these testimonies against musicians, believe them. Consider the trauma they've been through after being r*ped or ab*sed by a musician they previously admired.

BUT.

There are many musicians that have displayed terrible behaviors in the past, and have since apologized, changed themselves, and done everything in their ability to make things right, NOT to ease their conscience, but because it was the right thing to do...and many artists who've chosen not to acknowledge those behaviors, which is obviously not okay. To clarify, I will never support rapists or abusers, and I believe we should always believe victims.

Needless to say, I don't forget about these behaviors. The music industry has a lot of problematic mindsets especially when it comes to the way women are treated -- but that's an issue for another day.

So, can you still listen to these artists? Honestly, I think it's all a matter of personal discretion. Many bands have chosen to get rid of members who've been exposed for ongoing problematic behaviors and/or abuse, so I obviously still support those bands. But when it comes to artists like Lennon or Bowie, I don't support them as individuals. I like to think of it this way: If they were alive now, would I be spending my time with them knowing they did those things? Absolutely not. Do I still enjoy their music? Yes.

I firmly believe that you can enjoy an artist's music without endorsing them as individuals, but there are plenty of people who would disagree, and I respect that. There are a lot of other factors that I don't have time to get into, but as I said before, it's a huge matter of discretion. If anything, I believe it's vitally important to expose musicians if they have been abusive and for their bands to immediately sever ties with them.

So yeah, that's my humble opinion on that issue. Feel free to comment your take on this issue. All opinions are valued and respected.

Yoko Ono recreates "Imagine" for John Lennon's 78th Birthday

Tuesday marked what would've been John Lennon's 78th birthday, and to honor her late husband, Yoko Ono released a cover of perhaps his most famous song, "Imagine."

I've never been a huge fan of Yoko, which I'll admit comes from my mom's relentless criticism of her as a home wrecker, but it doesn't exactly inhibit my appreciation of her as an artist. Her music is a hit-or-miss for most people, and though I'm one who holds very little judgment against odd voices, I can't say I'm a huge fan of her music.

This is why this cover surprised me, because I wasn't expecting it to be so oddly beautiful. I mean, I guess that's kind of the nature of the song in the first place, but I certainly didn't expect Yoko to be able to do it justice.

The cover is extremely simplistic -- Yoko's mournful voice slapped together with some atmospheric piano in the background, and eventually a slowed down version of Lennon's famous piano riff, comprise the entire 3 minutes and 35 seconds of the song. The haunting simplicity Yoko brings to Lennon's masterpiece to me perfectly encapsulates all the hopefulness and reflectiveness of the song. I have to say, this cover pleasantly surprised me, and I think that if John were still alive, he'd be thrilled that his wife was able to capture these things in such a beautiful way.