by Paul and Clif


Although it is our first offering as Pony, our EP is a summation of all our work prior to date, a kind of survey course in the music that we’ve generated over the past decade plus, as a collaborative duo, as band leaders, and as sidemen. The small circle of listeners who have been kind enough to have followed the musical progress of our former bands will hear growth and continuity, as well as recombinations of familiar sensibilities, nuanced by the world education of post-college life. The lyrical content is broad-ranging. Contrast the darkly existential, humanistic nature of Paul’s writing in Sight to the environmental narratives established by my own offering Oak Tree. You’ll find the music is underscored by questions and suggestions. Rather than providing the answers in words, we deflect to our instrumental loves and vices, filling the space with the sounds of string rhetoric, violin, cello, fingerstyle guitar, sub bass, and drums. In our proudest moments, Hollow and On Wind, the music is a completely egalitarian collaboration, equal parts us.


The production is extremely thick and layered. In places the vocals are triple tracked in both harmony parts, and there are three violins on each line of a four-part violin interlude. The cello and bass pedals intone heavy voicings, resounding together in the lower registers. The drums are free, thunderous and unrestricted, the kind work of our friends and ace percussionists, Alex Van Rysselberghe and Brett Bjornrud. In its fleeting, best moments, the music elicits the gentle, feminine shade of our good friend, Amy Chatelaine, who humbles the voices of men. 


In the home of the woods there are so many layers and textures, all wood, rocks, and leaves, and wind. These feels are the root inspiration for the instruments of sacrificed trees, drums of rock, and the kinetic air of the human voice that we have planted, splashed, and patiently waited to take root, grow, and bare a canopy of green, red, and yellow, and brown. We want the listener to hear something new at each successive spin, and so we have buried things between the rocks, the leaves, and the trees, and the air, hoping that you may find them when the sun is shining the right way or when the rain has washed away some of the debris, clarifying the meanings and unfinished catechisms that continue to urge us to place pen to paper, words to melody, and melody to form.


We hope it is pleasant to the ears, challenging to the mind, and warm to the soul. Thanks for listening.