Thanks to the glorious Evenko, I got to have the Tame Impala at the Bell Centre experience. And what an experience.

Tame Impala, the Perth, Australian phaser-loving five-piece (six while touring), are all over the festival circuit, and blowing up number ones and Pitchfork’s Hot Lists, and all of that (Kevin Parker, the brains of the operation recently won an APRA award for his song Let It Happen), but The Bell Centre? I was a little surprised.

Tame ImpalaTame Impala’s latest album, Currents, features the aforementioned Daft Punk-styled single, Let It Happen, and the band’s signature phase-whorled, effects-laden compositions, songs that are enormously melodic.

Tame Impala’s discography is a beautiful timeline of songs, and the growth of Parker’s songwriting is really cool to observe, as the band grows steadily more soulful.

The band occupied a small pocket of the Bell Centre’s sprawling stage, but The Bell Centre is nothing if not epic: Confetti rockets, a light show, and a screen of etcha-sketch-type visuals that were so spasmic I was grateful I’d left my acid at home.

Giving shout outs to the poor bastards in the seats that were 5,000 feet above sea level, Tame Impala were simultaneously down to earth and completely cosmic. They know how to appeal to the pop kids and the club rats, the festival lot, and the music nerds. Tame Impala just make incredible music and write really good songs.

It did feel weird to see the band, who last time came through Montreal played an incredible show at the more appropriate Metropolis. It wasn’t that seats weren’t filled (there were, in fact, a complete sea of thousands of people), but it was… The Bell Centre.


When I think of The Bell Centre, I think of super groups and hockey games, of Celine Dione. While Tame Impala was melting the faces of the lucky few that had shelled out almost 100 bucks for floor tickets, the rest of us were kind of milling around in our hockey-game seats.

Giving one last longing look back at Tame Impala, what was an incredible set, we went out to the dep, got a 12 pack of Pabst, and sat in the grass talking about how next time Tame Impala rolls through town they should probably just book a three-night thing at Metropolis.