Tame Impala's Cameron Avery Is Dishing Up Best Of The Year Stuff With New Solo Tracks

Regular customers would realise this is where I’d usually philosophise or pontificate about the state of the popular music, and/or make an attempted funny smartarse remark. This week, maybe later. Simply, the series of songs Cameron Avery is coming up with surround the release of his Ripe Dreams, Pipe Dreams album have to mark it as an early contender for those ‘Best Of The Year…’ lists, and you just need to know about it. Thus, I shall tell you. Latest visually-enhanced instalment is Dance With Me (Spinning Top/Anti), again a long way from his Tame Impala and Pond credits. And sure it has some ironic self-awareness, an arched eyebrow to its noir-ish tone, which might be deliberately winking at itself. But, as Berlin-era Iggy collides with some Lennie Cohen via some Rat Pack lounge-lizarding, it’d all fall to slivers if there wasn’t real craft and talent in what has been made. Ladies and gentlemen, this is the business.

Of course, sometimes to get noticed for how good – or even just clever – you are, you need to go for the gimmick. PWR BTTM, for all their glittery queer punk style and their quality in delivering it, have to find an extra angle. In Answer My Text (Polyvinyl), they give themselves a couple of shots at it. As the title suggests, it’s a wry investigation of the problems of nurturing the modern relationship (“Maybe your heart’s on silent mode…”), which is a nice novelty in itself, but a chorus that allows the listener to say ‘dick!’ a lot is always a top selling point. All together now…

Or you can use some of the new technology for more noble purpose. Feel It Still (Atlantic) has some of that awkward white-boy funk that Portugal. The Man can sometimes conjure. And somewhere in its corners, angles, and edges it’s being suitably personal and political at once. The bonuses when you go deeper – by poking around the enhanced version of the video on P.TM’s own site – is a bunch of easter eggs and other interactive thingys to point you at resources and hints to navigate these quite bizarre political times. More for our American friends, obviously – but there’s no such thing as too much knowledge. 

Somewhat more obtuse than that, Glass Animals just harness said technology to make things that bit weird and uncomfortable in the name of their art. Pork Soda (Caroline Australia) shuffles in and around the room, then hides behind the curtains when you come back in to just watch what’s going on. Things get surreal, and show they even make puppies creepy if you put your mind to it. They also invite you to get interactive, with further information on the gallery of ‘interesting’ characters that have appeared in their recent videos, where you can further end up deciding that you really don’t want to know these people. Other than in a John Waters movie, perhaps. 

But you really want to know how to make this pop music thing, don’t you? Come, let Real Estate guide you. Stained Glass (Domino) is the tutorial clip, but as much as it tells you exactly where to put your fingers on the guitar neck, you probably still won’t be able to make it as effortlessly shiny as they do. This is classicist pop, all jangle and shimmer, made by experienced hands in the form, of the sort that sadly not as popular at moment as it should probably always be.

There are more traditional ways to put your work in front of people. Let’s talk product placement. Dustin Tebbutt was another of those who went away from his homeland for a time, if only to appreciate what we had here all the time. His music is the modern troubadour’s default of a folkie feeling that’s both retro and modern at once. That makes Atlas In My Eye (Eleven) an ideally reflectively stroll as it runs over the closing credits of the Jasper Jones movie, unfurling like that highway in front of you as they decide whether there’s a sequel in it.

Three years on from leader Alex Wall deciding shuttling between America’s coasts and our Gold Coast was a way to live an artistic life, Bleeding Knees Club re-emerge as grumpy young adults wholly aware they might be in a bit of a rut. Chew The Gum (Inertia) has them downing a shot of red cordial and producing one of their snarky little anthems, musing on the flogging of dead horses in life and music. It buzzes along in goodly style, says all it needs to, and them buggers off - all in a tick over three minutes. Well played.

Also a little on the shitty-with-the-world side, Plastic – and there’s a top name for a modern pop combo in itself – are a bit sloppy and slurry, but somehow focussed as Has Anyone Ever Told You You're Alive? (Independent). This is music in and for a small sweaty room, with just enough feedback overflow to express whatever it is they’re dissatisfied with. The manner and attitude of it make it one of those tunes that probably get better at what it’s about the louder you play it. Annoy your parents and/or neighbours today.