‘At first, their aesthetic was one of naive, unfettered freedom, but they slowly grew convinced of the need for some semblance of structure and proper instrumental technique.’ So, relates the biog-preview, which just might help contextualise Bardo Pond’s alt.’aesthetic’. In as much as anything can prepare you for this pharmaceutically fueled, psycho-derelict crashed Flying Saucer phantasmagoria. Until, that is, things start getting a bit very weird when the drones of alternate Destiny become assimilated within the vortex of noise-generated cybermorphation. In other words, what the f***s going on is any one’s guess. But, it sure as hell is fun to watch and be splattered by their bludgeoning, aural synaptic discharge – and being very, very loud with it!


Philadelphian fusion-reactor spawned Bardo Pond’s Drone-laden de profundis heavy dirges and feral sonic mayhem drew a hearteningly full crowd tonight. Fronted by beguiling cotton-frocked hippy chick Isobel Sollenberger, vocal/flute, they shoegazed through a barrage of, allegedly, drug-inspired psychedelic rock. Not space-rock, that’s for sure because they barely shifted from the sloth-slow turgid tempo all evening. Inevitable comparisons range from Earth, My Bloody Valentine and likewise others with virtual aspirant wrist-slashing by music proxy displacement syndrone. For serious ‘Heads’ only, BP’s antagonistic cerebral molestation is not for the faint-hearted. Best played to Simon Cowell when having involuntary root-canal surgery. Yet again Capsule reach the parts others only play themselves with.


Gig Review by John Kennedy
Gig Photos by Ian Dunn

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