The Trip Begins???
Albums Listened To:
Discreet Music (1975) - Brian Eno 🇬🇧 | Lonerism (2012) - Tame Impala 🇦🇺 | Merriweather Post Pavilion (2009) - Animal Collective 🇺🇸
Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots (2002) - The Flaming Lips 🇺🇸 | Blac Rabbit (2017) - Blac Rabbit 🇺🇸 | Nightclubbing (1981) - Grace Jones 🇯🇲
I told you the next post would come sooner! As I mentioned last time, I’m still figuring out the best way to lay out these write-ups. 25 albums was utterly insane to try to summarise coherently. By limiting the number of projects per post, I think I’ll be able to offer (hopefully) more interesting and thought-out responses to each album cycle. It was certainly a much more enjoyable writing process this time around!
Without further ado…
I listened to Brian Eno’s Discreet Music (1975) on a very rainy and cold day in Vienna. I’m not sure if I was just missing typical London weather, but I decided to take a long walk along the canal near my apartment. The irony of listening to the first track (basically a standalone ambient piece) while fighting my umbrella against the wind certainly wasn’t lost on me. This first track is Eno near his most meditative: a short, simple musical idea repeated with little variation for over half an hour. Whether it was the listening environment or something else, it didn’t do much for me. It’s beautiful and calming in an uncanny, synthetic way (thanks to the strict use of a synthesiser and a tape-delay system), but probably best experienced somewhere other than loud, freezing city streets.
That brings us to the second side of the album, made up of three variations on the well-known Canon in D Major by Johann Pachabel. Needless to say, this was much more up my alley. It’s wonderfully cinematic and full of striking dissonances that appear organically as the source material is shifted between instruments. It almost feels like a deconstructed Max Richter piece (someone I’d love to explore more), with rich string writing and very delicate vibrato. I understand the intrigue of contrasting this with the ambient track, though I wouldn’t have complained if the entire runtime had been made up of additional variations.
Here’s where things take a turn. I’m not sure if the listening environment of Discreet Music had an impact on this, but my instinct pulled me into a realm I hadn’t visited in quite a few years…
On a still very cold but fortunately less rainy day, I listened to Tame Impala’s Lonerism (2012). I’m somewhat familiar with his (Kevin Parker, the person behind the artist) more recent work, particularly Deadbeat (2025), but hadn’t explored the early LP’s. For whatever reason, I felt compelled to try one out. In short, this was a VERY refreshing listen after nearly three months of predominately slow-paced ambient electronic music. It felt like breaking down a self-built wall that kept me from genres I used to love — here, psychedelic rock.
As the vocals entered in the first track, I literally checked my phone to see if the melody was some sort of Beatles sample from around the time of Sgt. Pepper (1967). Parker cites that late-‘60s/early-‘70s psychedelic period as a primary influence — less obvious in later albums but undeniable in Lonerism. That said, this doesn’t feel like a knockoff. While it retains plenty of those production tropes (swirling reverb/chorus, fuzzy bass lines, etc…), Lonerism blends them with the best of 2010s pop, especially in musical hooks that stick with you long after finishing the album.
This might be the inciting incident that gets me out of my ambient era… never did I think a Tame Impala album would do that, but here we are!
Next came Merriweather Post Pavilion (2009) by Animal Collective. While Lonerism leaned pop, this album is a very different branch of psychedelia. Much more experimental in its production and melodically unpredictable, Merriweather Post Pavilion feels much closer to what I consider the surreal, dreamlike core of the genre. While I find that many psychedelic albums feel like companions to some sort of altered state, this sounds more like what someone who is actively tripping might hear during their “journey.” There’s a real edge to many of the tracks, occasionally veering into something more nightmarish sound world (especially early on). It can also feel quite primal at times, with strong, sustained non-vibrato vocal lines. This reminded me quite a bit of Freddie Mercury, funnily enough. That earthy quality is reinforced with some folk-like tendencies, especially the emphasis on rhythm in low, heavily reverbed percussion.
Staying on that ride but shifting worlds again, I listened to The Flaming Lips’ Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots (2002). I’d been aware of the band for years but never actually gotten around to listening to them. Honestly, the name always made me think they’d be more grunge-adjacent (à la of Pearl Jam), not so deeply rooted in this surrealist psychedelic space.
Have you gotten sick of me saying “surrealist” and/or “psychedelic?” Well BUCKLE UP.
If Lonerism is more pop-oriented and Merriweather… leans toward acid rock, Yoshimi… is pop from another planet (with acid rock instincts). There’s a humorous through-line that makes parts of it feel like a sci-fi B-Movie, which I loved. The synth bass in particular is occasionally straight-up funny, but it never breaks the world; it adds to the strangeness. I was often reminded of the Beach Boys’ Pet Sounds (1966), especially in the more eclectic instrumentation (particularly in “All We Have Is Now,” with timpani and what sounds like electronically altered contrabass). I’ll definitely be diving further into their discography soon, so stay tuned.
Maybe the most obvious rehashing of both the Beatles and Tame Impala was Blac Rabbit (2017), the debut EP by the band of the same name. It’s generally well written, but very clearly derived from the influences the band itself identifies. That’s probably my biggest gripe, especially in the production which often feels like direct quotes of Tame Impala. Still, for a debut, it’s a pretty impressive and enjoyable listen. I did find it funny that FIVE of the six songs start with a drumstick count-in… to me, that’s a clear sign of each song being written in isolation and then thrown together without much concern for cohesion. Not necessarily a criticism, just something I wonder if they noticed when writing their 2022 LP (which might show up in a future post).
The final album in this cycle is Grace Jones’ Nightclubbing (1981), an iconic mix of covers and original tracks. I didn’t know much about her music going in, though she’s a figure I’ve been aware of for a while due to her immense cultural presence. I expected something closer to early house/dance considering it was released as disco was already well out of the mainstream. While there were some nods to these styles, the album feels distinctly Caribbean with a persistent reggae backbone (Jones is originally from Jamaica — something I also didn’t know beforehand). That was probably my favourite aspect, as it brought something unique to what could’ve been a standard early-’80s new-wave record. The infectious drum patterns, punchy bass lines and perky synths work phenomenally well together.
It’s also impossible to talk about Nightclubbing without mentioning the art of camp. There are so many melodramatic, wonderfully theatrical vocal choices (both sung and spoken), alongside moments of almost gothic, mysterious production. The whole thing feels sultry and stylised, but still propulsive enough to carry through the full runtime. It’s a campy, mystical, and thoroughly engaging album that I’d definitely recommend.
It’s worth noting that I wasn’t familiar with the original versions of the songs being covered, which may have shaped my impression. Regardless, this was a definite highlight.
Well, I think that wraps things up. As always, let me know if you have any album recommendations or thoughts on the structure of The Listening Room. If you’re reading this, the Instagram account should (hopefully) be up, so give it a follow and spread the word!
Reach out there or the contact page on this website.
Ben :)
