There’s a quiet confidence to ‘swan’ that makes it feel less like a bid for attention and more like an invitation. Peter McCall doesn’t announce what this record is supposed to mean; he simply opens the door and lets the songs speak in their own, gently crooked language. As Fazed on a Pony’s second full-length, ‘swan’ sounds like an artist who has stopped proving himself and started trusting his instincts.
At first blush, the album sits comfortably in the loose overlap between indie rock and alt-country, but McCall treats genre less like a rulebook and more like a grab bag. Familiar guitar jangle and drawl-adjacent melodies drift alongside pedal steel sighs, fiddle lines that feel almost conversational, and the subtle hum of drum machines and synths. Rather than clashing, these elements settle into each other, creating a sound that feels lived-in but alert—like an old room with one unexpected new window.
What makes ‘swan’ especially compelling is the tension between its emotional weight and its melodic generosity. McCall has a knack for writing lines that carry disappointment, confusion, or self-doubt without collapsing under them. His lyrics often feel like small admissions rather than grand statements: moments of honesty offered with wry humor and an understanding shrug. Even when the songs trace uncertainty, the music itself keeps nudging forward, buoyed by warm chord changes and hooks that arrive almost casually, as if they weren’t trying to impress.
Tracks like “The Perfect Swan” and “Wrong Party” exemplify this balance. Guitars chime and bend, rhythms loosen and tighten just enough to stay interesting, and the arrangements leave space for emotion to breathe. There’s a sense that each sound is there because it serves the song, not because it signals a reference point or a clever idea. If echoes of artists like David Berman or MJ Lenderman drift through the record, they do so as shared sensibilities rather than borrowed clothes.
Crucially, ‘swan’ never feels dour, despite its preoccupation with disappointment and doubt. There’s a persistent undercurrent of hope—not the loud, declarative kind, but something quieter and more believable. It’s in the way a melody lifts just when the lyric turns inward, or how a pedal steel line glides in like a steadying hand on the shoulder. The album seems to understand that feeling lost doesn’t preclude feeling okay, sometimes even at the same time.
By the end of ‘swan,’ Fazed on a Pony has carved out a space that feels distinctly his own: antipodean in perspective, transcontinental in sound, and deeply human in its concerns. It’s a record that rewards repeat listens not with sudden revelations, but with a growing sense of companionship. These songs don’t insist on being profound; they simply stay with you, gently reminding you that uncertainty can be navigated, and that sadness, set to the right melody, can still point toward light.
Releases January 23, 2026
Find out more here: Bandcamp | Meritorio Records | Instagram
