The album shrewdly brings order to the disorder, without streamlining away the band’s agreeably quirky identity.
Ultimately, you’ll get as much out of On Oni Pond as you put in; you might find yourself putting it on as background music, then letting other tasks fall by the wayside as you try to decipher how these little ditties pack so much punch.
Perhaps they’re becoming more “adult”, in that while Man Man puts forth the outer appearance of having their shit together, on the inside, their darker impulses are repressed into something more grotesque and frightening.
With all the edges sanded, On Oni Pond feels a bit like the type of record that a vocalist will often make after going solo. That said, concentrating on what best suits a song can be a blessing for a band that often favored disjointed experimentation over structure.