Bardo Pond

Set and Setting (Matador)
by Jon Sarre

There’s something detachedly sexy in Bardo Ponds‘s slow, deliberate lazified-jam climb up a spiral staircase. Maybe it’s tied into the sultry somethingness of Isobel Sollenberger’s vox chords or the lush texturality of the feedback swirls’n’squawks or how the whole shebang of the band’s work here evokes EVOL-era Sonic Youth with more soul and less experimental pretension (yeah, that woulda made SY more appealing even at that point – ’85, ’86, whenever it was, at the apex of their interestingness).

In a genre (artrock, damn straight, tho’ “psychedelic” is an adjective that they get slapped with, ‘cept I don’t see all that hallucinogenic cheez in these Philly residents’ aural steak sandwich – you’d almost think I got paid per lousy metaphor, huh – but, sure, call Bardo dayglow-dwellers if ya equate psychedelia with really long songs) where the artist’s control or lack thereof over the proceeding usually makes for a snooze-inducing listening experience that the audience is supposed to “appreciate” verses stoning out to the “fucked-up shit” that’s coming thru the speakers (so maybe they’re psychedelic after all), the Pond is oddly alluring, not cuz their drawn-out chords aren’t as fronted as Skullflower’s, but rather cuz the five people who make up the band come off as having written the eight songs on Set and Setting for the sole purpose of letting you space out (hmmm, sorta like Floyd!).

It’s fitting then, that none of the tracks on this record really stands out in a “singles” sorta way from the greater weave of sound. Each one has a gradual build-up of flailing guitar noise until a crescendo of sorts is reached, after which starts the next selection. I’ve thrown it on as ambient background, but then hadta turn it off cuz I got drawn into it and couldn’t bring myself to do anything else. That’s a rare occurrence.
(625 Broadway New York, NY 10012)