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::k4:
a r t i s t :: Pond
t i t l e :: Man It Feels Like Space Again
d a t e :: 2015-00-00
l a b e l :: Caroline Records/Universal
g e n r e :: Psychedelic Rock
s o u r c e :: CD
b i t r a t e :: 275 kbps avg
e n c o d e r :: LAME 3.98.4 -V 0
t r a c k s :: 9
p l a y t i m e :: 45:02
s i z e :: 89.11MB
tracklist
1 Waiting Around For Grace 5:09
2 Elvis' Flaming Star 3:25
3 Holding Out For You 4:43
4 Zond 4:04
5 Heroic Shart 4:04
6 Sitting Up On Our Crane 6:00
7 Outside Is The Right Side 5:09
8 Medicine Hat 4:07
9 Man It Feels Like Space Again 8:21
releasenotes
The minority who find Tame Impala's self-seriousness a slog have always needed
the clowns in Pond. They're more obvious performers, more obvious musicians,
more obvious comediansùeverything they do is more obvious, and while snobs
have reamed them as nothing more than dumb fun, dumb fun is emphatically the
point. "It's all a joke," Pond's Nick Allbrook once said, and you can infer
from those who've turned their noses up that they're merely affronted by the
fear that they're not in on it.
That's by design. Pond are chaotic, if not anarchic, and what they hold sacred
is unfathomable. They'll stick to an ostensibly clichΘ album titleùsomething
blabbed by Jay Watson as he was coming off hallucinogensùbecause they made an
off-hand quip about it in an interview four years ago, but then can barely
commit to a single premise for the length of a song. Though the temptation has
often been to compare Pond to green-out acid-freak noise-makers of the late
'60s and '70s, in 2015 they bear a stronger resemblance to the unpredictable
and erratic antics of Ariel Pink. Take the eight minute outlying closer out of
the equation and the average track time is a nose over four minutes, free of
the drawn-out jamwanking which bogs down their alleged peers. And like many of
Ariel's tracks, Pond often find a way of squishing three songs in and around
one, barely allowing any chance for the mind to wander.
Although songwriting chores are split, much of what's compelling about Pond is
drawn from impish savant Nick Allbrook, who has a rare knack for delivering
hooks of abstract nonsense with vital conviction. In interviews he leaps over
fissures between talking points and trusts you to make the connection, and on
record that manifests as characters like Caroline and Laura who come and go
without warning or cause, and declarations like "By the light of the sun and
the moon and sound/ Merry go round." When they play it relatively straight on
"Sitting Up On Our Crane", a sentimental memory of trespassing with friends,
Allbrook trades his poetics for Jay Watson's nostalgic wist: "All I wanna do
is get drunk and listen to Dennis Wilson/ Cause he's the man." Insert
obligatory yeah-yeah-yeahs.
Pond's previous albums changed shape with each release, the constant being a
fondness for the traditional tools of rock, but Man It Feels Like Space Again
leans heavier on synths and dance rhythms, a reflection of them becoming
staples of summer festivals like St. Jerome's Laneway. They've mostly chucked
the Zeppelin/Hendrix riffs of earlier songs like "Giant Tortoise" and Justin
Hawkins posturing, going softer on the glam goofiness and stonerisms and
feeling less like parody as a result. They won't be chasing Flume on Future
Classic any time soon (then again, who knows? They already share a label with
Cut Copy), but these tracks seem more likely to incite mass writhing than a
sea of banging heads and waving lighters. Sure it's got sneering commenters
limp-lobbing potshots like "That drummer is too good for this band" on live
videos as Jay Watson sticks to a basic beat, but it's all in pursuit of that
aforementioned ethos, quaint as it seems, of reaching people. If accessibility
comes at the cost of satisfying the need for some to feel discerning, so be
it.
But there's still plenty recognizable here, the pedals and effects boards
stacking up like the inside of a hoarders den. "Holding Out for You" is a
stomping stadium rock ballad, acoustic singalong "Medicine Hat" remembers some
of the stripped back tracks on Beard, Wives, Denim, and "Outside Is the Right
Side" does a psych-funk strut over its refrain, straightforward enough to slip
snugly into King Gizzard's catalog (and we're about due for a new Gizz record;
it's been nearly three months.) That the album's halves pivot on a track
called "Heroic Shart" should tell you all you need to know about any
accusations of maturing.
Members of the band have winkingly referred to their records forming a
conceptual rock star career trajectory: Frond was the auspicious breakthrough,
Beard, Wives, Denim their return-to-roots, and Hobo Rocket the fattened
bombast of music industry fossils. The analogy breaks down with Man It Feels
Like Space Again, though. That a band in the mold they're imagining might put
out an album this fun on their sixth go-round seems unimaginable. Even in
their repeated defiance of having anything to prove, Pond still scramble with
the passion and irreverence of underdogs.
http://www.pondband.net/
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