Let It Happen

"Let It Happen" is the most ambitious piece in the Tame Impala catalog — nearly eight minutes of gradual psychedelic dissolution that begins in something resembling conventional indie pop and ends somewhere closer to trance music, having passed through several intermediate states along the way. Parker structures it like an experience rather than a song: the first few minutes establish melody and lyric, then a drum-machine stutter around the four-minute mark initiates a kind of controlled breakdown, the whole arrangement fragmenting and repeating like a skipping record before resolving into an extended synthesizer outro that feels genuinely euphoric. The production on Currents was the most electronic Parker had gone, and this track represents that shift at its most dramatic — guitars largely absent, the texture built from layered synths, processed drums, and Parker's falsetto weaving through the density. The lyric meditates on surrender, on the relief of releasing resistance to whatever is coming, and the musical experience mirrors that conceptually: the listener is carried somewhere rather than walked. It functions almost like a meditation on transitions — fitting for an album Parker has described as processing the end of a long relationship — but the emotional register is ultimately more freeing than grief-stricken. This is music for movement, for long drives or runs or the kind of exercise where you want to feel carried somewhere beyond where you started. You'd come back to it any time something large is ending and you're deciding how to feel about that.