“There’s a party in my head and no one is invited,” sings Kevin Parker on Tame Impala’s 2010 debut album. Considering that the Perth band leader and producer plays almost everything on InnerSpeaker himself, that’s as apt a summary of the record’s inward-looking landscapes as Leif Podhajsky’s cover art or the pointed album title. Moving beyond the heady classic-rock nostalgia of Tame Impala’s self-titled 2008 EP, Parker celebrates the creative inner vistas that are becoming more fully realised while also flexing the pop chops that would come to define his work.   At the risk of understating things, this record is also just a really great hang. Opener “It Is Not Meant to Be” introduces Parker’s artful balancing of dusty drum breaks, easy vocal melodies and woozy washes of effects. Then “Desire Be Desire Go” shows just how naturally he can soften the harsh edges of his blown-out guitar parts while riding steadily along on a bubbly rhythm section of his own making. In some ways, those two tracks offer an inauspicious introduction to what lies ahead—both on this album and for Tame Impala overall—but one can already hear Parker allowing plenty of room to play with texture and tone beyond the influence of Revolver-era Beatles and other mind-bending 1960s touchstones. In addition to the actual instrumental, “Jeremy’s Storm”, several tracks feature long instrumental stretches, almost as if vocals are just another colour in Parker’s vibrant palette.   At the same time, Parker is beginning to explore the themes of fleeting connection and lingering isolation that would inform his subsequent records. Mind-altering substances play a key role in that: he mentions the lack of romantic appeal in “sitting around smoking weed” on “It Is Not Meant to Be”, and pleads to have “all five senses back to where they're meant to be” on “Lucidity”. Likewise, “Why Won’t You Make Up Your Mind?” may lead off with a deliciously sample-ready beat, but it culminates with Parker pointedly asking, “Am I wasting my time?/Living in my head?”   As he would go on to prove with 2012’s even more insular Lonerism and 2015’s mainstream-conquering Currents, the answer is a resounding no.