Pontiak

The brothers Carney played in a variety of bands before they came back together, formed Pontiak, and returned to their small hometown in the Blue Ridge Mountains. By the time the trio—guitarist Van, bassist/keyboardist Jennings and drummer Lain—had toured enough to catch the eye of Thrill Jockey Records, or by the time Pontiak was ready to record 2008’s Sun on Sun, it had evolved into a heavy psychedelic rock band defined by its rural surroundings.

Winsome country seeps into the pores of Pontiak’s unhurried proto-metal riffs, a sonic spaciousness marking the relaxed tempos and stretched sounds of Van Carney’s guitar. When there’s singing—all three sing—it’s as casual and even-tempered as the panoramic sound coming from the instruments. 

This isn’t to suggest that Pontiak’s songs are directionless or unnecessarily lengthy; they’re purposeful and, with exception, usually over within five minutes. Pontiak’s songs have a destination in mind, but they don’t rush to get there. The near-metal volume and heft makes comparisons to Harvey Milk or Black Sabbath reasonable, but incomplete. The influence of experimental idioms is clear on some of Pontiak’s more out-minded explorations, while the country-rock of Neil Young leaves a heavy mark, too. And on last year’s Maker, the blues got a heavy shake.

In drawing together so many sounds and taking the time to patiently explore them, Pontiak is journeying toward something singular, coming closer to a more perfect destination with each release. Thrill Jockey will release the band’s latest album, Living, in May. —Bryan Reed