Sitting Up On Our Crane

"Sitting Up On Our Crane" is Pond at their most sprawling and sun-bleached, a Perth psych-rock band orbiting the same Tame Impala solar system but messier, more theatrical, less polished. The track unspools in waves: fuzzed-out guitars drenched in tape-warble and analog delay, synths that smear across the stereo field, and a groove that feels both propulsive and woozy, like motion seen through heat shimmer. Nick Allbrook's vocal is reedy and androgynous, sliding between falsetto coos and yelped declarations, more concerned with texture and abandon than precision. The lyric trades in surreal, image-driven non-sequiturs — a crane, a vantage point above the city, a sense of perched detachment from the world below — gesturing at alienation and elevated, drug-tinged perspective without ever resolving into narrative. This is maximalist psychedelia that refuses to sit still, shifting sections like a band that records jams and keeps the strange parts. It belongs to the lineage of Australian neo-psych that took 60s freakout and ran it through bedroom-modern production. Best heard loud on headphones, ideally horizontal, late, with the lights off — music for dissolving the boundary between your skull and the ceiling.