Saturns children is The Wizards most impressive song by a long shot, not many songs make 15 minutes go by like that. The rest of this album is them at their most generic and forgettable.

Fucking incredible incapsulates the cover perfectly and the cover is what I want to look like so it’s the best thing ever made.

Ima black metal glazer this is perf

Hipster as fuck and bouncy as shit. The repeated vocal lines on the tracks are charming. More inviting, less enigmatic.

Least bloated and most moving. Great entrancing dance music is the name of the game with this.

cant bring myself to enjoy a majority of this ones sound.

simply calming in the most unnerving way

uncompromising in its attempt to match a sound with the words neurotic and croak

Nothing but gnashing instrumentals and demented lyrics delivered viciously. few records have paralleled its borderline genius minimalistic aggravation.

This one took me a second but I am often floored by this albums willfulness to truly shatter boundaries that could potentially restrict its totally mint and distinguishable, genre bending neo-psych ideas.
truly a vagabond in record form that is dipping its fingers equally into the realms of free form folk and psychedelic pop, that has a delightfully innovative prediction about the possibilities for the latter genres sound.

preciously self reflective with a danceable drive it again manages to be mostly unassuming and approachable in a way that further handicaps its already mild profundity.
what you're left with is what ones expects from a band called 'Tame Impala'

I'm gonna add this just so people can frame my opinion better... Tommorows Dust is without a doubt the peak of this album and is one of the few songs by Kevin I have been even slightly moved by.

relatively benign which is both a good and bad quality. however there are moments when experimental song writing truly allows the sound to feel nuanced and at least resemble something trying to stick its neck out there.

in the least offensive way this is a infinitely more charming, dreamy and vivacious version of Tame Impala's signature indie rock sound that benefits greatly from Melody Prochets vocals which are far easier to chew on, expanding its drugged cadence greatly through her light and delicate deliveries.

Mature and delicate, with a biting urgency. A silver lining with a shimmering sound.

Fresh and unpredictable.

Filthy and sick with a slow writhing initial 25 minutes or so that devolves into some of their most dangerously addictive tunes. Another essential sound for sludge metal is found on this classic record.

Them at their best. Just Fucking heavy with an unmistakably southern twang and chilling voice.
Epitome of sludge

Stylistically Incorrigible and down right wrecked this album is rolling in its own signature NOLA gloop pit of drug fueled anhedonic sludge.
Gnarly.

Some of this is crazy fun and super zonked. It fits its description of an embodiment of the come down from a night out well enough.
But a decent portion feels unremarkable.

Vocally unimaginable and bursting with tremendous displays of emotion, this one just doesn’t have the sound I can loose myself too for the duration of a full length record.
But a playfully experimental and very crucial step in her portfolio just not nearly as captivating to me with its song writing for extended lengths.