October has been a month of many album releases. Some have dramatically failed (The Life of a Showgirl, I am looking at you), while others have proven themselves once more. Among those lucky albums is Deadbeat by Tame Impala.

I have been a devoted follower of Kevin Parker for almost a decade. Every few years, one of his songs manages to claim the title of my all-time favorite — first Feels Like We Only Go Backwards, then Yes I’m Changing, and now, Not My World. Tame Impala has always been an anomaly for me. I firmly stand by the proposition that lyrics make good melodies great, yet this rule does not apply to his music. I rarely pay attention to his words; instead it is the sound, the arrangements, the textures that tell stories on their own. From Let It Happen — that captures the anxious thrill of anticipation — to Not My World — which pulls me back to hazy adolescence, his music has always been about feeling first, and meaning second.

Deadbeat is his most cyclic and repetitive album yet. Some have called it anticlimactic, but I think that is precisely the point. The album feels like a hypnotic loop and a sonic déjà vu. It is the sort of record nightclubs should play on repeat, instead of the endless churn of generic EDM. For those not built for the clubs, this album is perfect for dancing alone in your room when you need to stop thinking and just return to your body. The repetition does not bore, it soothes. It becomes meditative.

The opening track, My Old Ways, sets the tone for the rest of the album. A jazzy piano and bare vocals remind us that behind this multi-layered soundscape is a one-man act. The refrain, “Back into my ways again”, is a mantra signifying a return to familiar patterns, both comforting and disappointing. The cyclical melody embodies the pull of habit and the spiral of self-reflection.

While I was not alive in the ‘80s, listening to Dracula makes it feel like I was. The disco ball, neon leotards, glossy synths, and that distinctly Tame Impala layering to give it a modern spin is a retro fantasy done right — not a cheap imitation, but a reinvention.

If you love afrobeats, Oblivion might be your song. I have never been a fan of the genre — I usually have a pretty visceral reaction, ears bleeding and screaming why, God, why when afrobeats interrupt a perfectly good club streak. But Oblivion is different. It is smoother, spacier, filtered through Kevin Parker’s signature psychedelic sound. I would not throw tomatoes at the DJ for this one, so give it a listen.

And then, there is Not My World. This song is something else entirely. It is time travel. I am 18 again, back when life felt lighter and less serious. I am sneaking out of boarding school to go clubbing, living in that perfect moment when all the teenage overthinking melts away and you just tuz tuz to German techno until the sky turns blue again. Not My World does what no other song has managed, it transports me wholeheartedly back to that time, place, and headspace.

Obsolete revives the early 2000s boy-band craze, going wild over NSYNC and the Backstreet Boys. Ethereal Connection sounds exactly like its title suggests - beginning with what feels like an interspatial invasion before techno takes over once again. Afterthought and End of Summer close the album, circling back to Tame Impala’s roots in house and electronica.

Across this album, Parker plays with time, creating what can only be described as futuristic nostalgia. The album resists climax because it is not about progression; it is about suspension. It captures the comfort of being stuck in a feeling — a space between euphoria and melancholy — and the pleasure of surrendering control.

All in all, Deadbeat is the epitome of escapism. It pulls you out of life’s grind, reminding you what it feels like to simply exist. It not only transports you to the nostalgic past, but also proves that some loops are worth staying in a little longer.