The cover of Pond’s latest LP, Man It Feels Like Space Again, does a good job of evoking the mood of the band: colourful, messy, childlike, brilliantly ridiculous. Though less well-known than their sister band, Tame Impala, the Perth fourtet have received significant critical acclaim. Justifiably so, as this set proves.
The evening kicks off with Froth, a shoegaze-y indie band from L.A., who make up for a slight lack of imagination by looking cute and earnest in their Pavement t-shirts. They are playing on the smaller stage, on the first floor of Pumpehuset, a suitably snug environment. The audience is enthusiastic but rather small, depleted, no doubt, by the Ariel Pink gig that’s happening elsewhere in town.
I’d like to think I have vaguely sophisticated tastes when it comes to music, but truthfully, all I want from a live band is a bunch of wackos happy to make fools of themselves, playing psychedelic garage odes to nothing in particular. Pond provide this in spades, bouncing through the first two tracks of their latest album, “Waiting Around for Grace” and “Elvis’ Flaming Star” (bad sub-editing there, guys, Elvis is singular, and merits an ‘s’ after the apostrophe), intermittently collapsing into the odd jam.
“This song is called ‘Heroic Shart’, which is a ridiculous name for a song.” Frontman Nick Allbrook, like his bandmates, revels in underlining their absurdist side. The sound of opening beer cans is incorporated into songs, awful dance moves are attempted. Mid-way through the set Nick and Joe muse about the baldness and possible whereabouts of Brian Eno, before covering “Baby’s On Fire” from the 1974 album Here Come The Warm Jets.
The fun comes to an end after only an hour on stage, surprising for a band with six albums under their belts. A final encore, and my new favourite Aussies disappear into a clear night in Copenhagen.