Sup? So Pond are a three-piece from Australia who share two members from a little band called Tame Impala (anyone? Innerspeaker?). Pond continue the blueprint of Tame Impala, crafting psychedelic nuggets that sound both in thrall with the greats of the past, but also achingly fresh. So why bother with Pond if we already have Tame Impala I hear you ask? Well, although the music remains somewhat similar, the aesthetic of the music makes a clear separation between the two. This album is like if Tame Impala kicked back, opened some beers and just jammed the shit out of life for an hour not really caring where the song goes or if the tape runs over, which is exactly what Pond have done. The story goes that they pitched up in a barn in Australia in 2010 and recorded this, just them, a bunch of mics, and a desk, and it shows. Tapes begin while the band get ready to launch into a track, you hear the counts in and you hear the immediate reaction after, its all “authentic” and not in that new sense of the word “authentic” that is actually counter-productive to the word itself.
The sound still revolves around sounding eerily like John Lennon singing for some psych outfit, Dig Brother being right on the money for that. The organic nature of the album is what makes it sound so refreshing, you know these guys are just chilling with each other then picking up some instruments and jamming, and that is endearing. The tracks showcase the pop sensibilities that Tame Impala possess but veer off into Krautrock-esque freakouts (Fantastic Explosions Of Time),long lost Bowie songs (You Broke My Cool) that in the opening two lines rhyme “man” with “man”…told you it was Bowie, and stone called shredding (Eye Pattern Blindness). In an era where a whole album can be created without even having an instrument in the same room, this album sounds refreshing for just going back to the old-school, and that is something that should be celebrated. I haven’t stopped listening and smiling since I got it. It’s…fun.
Fabled guitar-funk album. The sleeve portrays what this album will do to your mind; melt your brain from the inside out with a mash of funk, soul and rock, until it’s a steaming cranium in the dirt. Probably most famous for the opening track “Maggot Brain” which is a ten-minute long, life changing solo. Created when Parliament/Funkadelic figure heads George Clinton and Eddie Hazel took acid just before they entered the studio. Clinton then asked Hazel to imagine that he had been told his mother had died, then revealed it was lie. The reaction is fucking insane. Hazel is nuts on guitar. It gives us a small insight into how these guys work, and a notion of their sagacity.
Regardless, one of the best albums I’ve ever heard. Up there with the most epic of 40-minute long expressions you’ll hear. I don’t care what musical preference you have, you need this. It’s mythical status grows year by year…
I’m not one to flaunt the adoration of a greatest hits, nor am I one to claim to have infinite knowledge of Funk music, but it would take a thoughtless buffoon, yes a fucking clown, to deny Sly, and his Family, some serious fucking kudos for this magnum opus. It’s a mix of everything the band, a collective of 21 artists, and the first “integrated, multi-gender lineup”, created; a funky, dancy psychedelia powerhouse of hip-shaking goodness. There are a few cracking tracks that didn’t make the cut, but Sly knew what he was doing, and nothing quite sums up their prolific 60’s period where the re-energised black music like this does. There’s a quote that can sum all of this up quite simply; “there are two types of black music: black music before Sly Stone, and black music after Sly Stone”. Word.
Some FlyLo album/demo from from ’06. Instrumental hip-hop with that psychedelic twist and it’s awful bonnie to listen to. You can hear that ‘beats’ sound rumbling along with the usual flairs of talent. It’s quite diverse but relative if your keen on Brainfeeder. Don’t think he named tracks on this one so it’s a bog-standard ‘untitled’ listing.
The effortless Pure Ectsasy from Austin pour lo-fi, chilled out sauce all over your speaker spaghetti. Led by the lackadaisical singer-songwriter Nate Grace, they have released only a few single seven-inches; the music is p.cool. Sounds like a Real Estate who dabbled in psychedelia and record their tracks live.
It’s all like psychedelic, english folk and a dash of prog. Groovy.
These boys are from London and released two albums earlier this year, one of which, Tidings, is just a mash of guitar and effects with some fucking bitchin’ single tracks punctuating the far out madness. The other album, Steeple, is just highly recommended if you enjoy psychedelic rock and that’s all there really is to say. I fucking love these albums and it rides the crest of a wave that hypno-groove Tame Impala instigated. The important things you need to know is that they use old school tape to record and the two-part last track is called “Banks of Sweet Dundee” which proves they must take an obscene amount of acid.
St. Andrews student radio managed to grab an interview with them and helps expand on anything I’ve missed out or don’t care about.