Pomaa Looks Inwards In Her Debut Single ‘I Can’t Wait Til This Doesn’t Matter’

Melbourne’s candid soprano has dusted away the weighty days of yore in this chillingly honest slice of alternative rock.

Reminiscing. Some will say a cathartic process of savouring those precious memories, others a mentally scarring journey into buried anguish. It’s omnipresence makes it an ideal avenue of self-expression, and in this confessional outpour, Pomaa has fertilised her own purgative needs. 

‘I Can’t Wait Til This Doesn’t Matter’ is purposefully unfortified. It’s represents the humanistic condition of its author and savours the consolation it exudes. As off the cuff divulgences go, you’d have to bend over backwards while juggling a chainsaw to find one as frank as this. But it only adds to the moody complexion, after all it details a protagonist  yearning  to assuage the bitter pill of nostalgia.

Instrumentally it’s simplistic, but again intentionally. Take the female-led pop sensibilities of Alvvays and the rock-infused grit of The Strokes. Now clasp your hands together, mould it into a sphere and faintly throw it at a member of the Black Keys, just so that it lightly brushes one of their arms so as to represent the faint blues inflections hidden within the ambience. 

Absorbed by the convolution of interpersonal relationships, this record captures the essence that less is more. The crisp drums orchestrating Pomaa’s silvery cadence, the wavering resonance of reverb-drenched guitars that build to a crunchy crescendo. It’s a recipe that doesn’t just whet the palate, it satisfies your entire appetite, and I’m hankering for another serving as soon as she’s ready. 

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