“‘Every Little Crumb’ has real Pistons energy,” Bielanski counters of another potential arena-pleaser off Clearly Cursed, its lyrics reflecting the triumph of the underdog. “So many people were talking shit about the Pistons, and now look at them — they’re the number one team in the East.”

PONY are speaking from their home studio, where Pistons posters cover the walls and a mini-hoop gets regular use between takes. Two basketballs won during a pre-game scavenger hunt at Little Caesars Arena hang above a Roland guitar amp. Morand is wearing a ’90s-era Pistons jersey — the one with the horse on it — and bright orange NBA Crocs.

For those in the know, PONY have long had a reputation as sharp-eared underground popsmiths. Basketball, however, is a newer obsession for the married couple. Morand grew up near the Detroit-Windsor Tunnel. He was vaguely aware of Pistons culture, but focused himself more on skateboarding and music. Bielanski, meanwhile, says they “tried very hard [their] entire life to stay as far away from balls of that nature,” nearly flunking gym year after year.

That changed in 2023. Morand, who has dealt with depression and anxiety for years, found those feelings intensifying after the death of his father. He sought help and was prescribed an SSRI. Serendipitously, that’s when basketball entered the picture.

“I held up the pill, touched it to my tongue, and then I was like, ‘We should watch basketball tonight,’” Morand recalls.

“It was the first time I’d ever heard the word ‘basketball’ come out of Matty’s mouth,” Bielanski says with a laugh.

While out of character, the pair tuned into a broadcast and quickly went all-in with their local squad. Trouble is, they’d gotten onboard while the Pistons were struggling through a brutal campaign. Morand and Bielanski’s first in-person game at LCA was the night the franchise broke the record for most consecutive losses in a season. Though they were excited to be there and root for their team, many Detroiters left furious.

“As new fans, that was devastating,” says Bielanski. “It’s like going to see your favourite band and the crowd is booing and throwing beer cans at them. I was like, ‘These people are horrible — they’re bullying our friends!’”

“We fell in love with them immediately,” Morand adds. “We really connected with this very, very, very losing team that wasn’t as bad as the record showed.”

He draws a parallel to life in PONY. “We feel like we’re the underdog team. We’re doing good work. We’re writing good songs. We’re putting out good records. We’re just not winning.”

Bielanski puts it bluntly: “The numbers ain’t there.”

“Similarly, we’ve played some of the worst shows in the history of music,” Morand continues, he and Bielanski noting that playing a 300-cap room in Philadelphia to an audience of zero stands out as an “especially humiliating” moment. Still, they didn’t bail. “We put on a great show anyways,” Bielanski says, even if it was just for the venue staff. That resilience carries into PONY’s Clearly Cursed, which radiates optimism even when it brushes up against the grief of losing a pet (“Middle of Summer”) or not shying away from your ugliest emotions (“Hot and Mean”). 

For Clearly Cursed, project founder Bielanski shifted positions, scaling back their previous guitar-playing duties to throw themselves into impactful lyrics and lush vocal stacks, while Morand dove deep into tone and texture. “I was like, ‘I’m going to focus on vocals, because that’s where I shine,’” Bielanski says now of the switch, adding, “I have no problem passing the torch.” 

Morand, meanwhile, says he’d lost some love for the game following the two-year process of making sophomore album Velveteen, a record both acknowledge took way too long to make. To reignite his spark, Morand studied players like Johnny Marr and Robert Smith, and leaned into a brighter, janglier tone on Clearly Cursed’s title track.

Texturally, the album’s not a total rebuild. PONY’s fundamentals remain in play, but both Morand and Bielanski developed and mastered new skills for the album. The record also finds the team rounded out by bassist Christian Beale, drummers Joey Ginaldi and Dan Leo, and co-producer Alex Gamble. The result is a fuller, more confident version of PONY— still fuzz-forward, but with deeper production and a tight-knit creative roster around its core.

“What makes a good team is chemistry and trust in the process,” Morand says. “Everybody was locked in on making the best possible version of PONY.”

Outside the studio, the duo kept training — literally — while shooting hoops at the gym. The pair then brought impact cardio work into their “Swallowing Stars” video with the help of a newly-bought walking pad, a piece of exercise gear they now use while watching Pistons games at home.

PONY’s musical ambitions and the Pistons timeline continue to overlap in amusing ways. Clearly Cursed releases Feb. 13, the same day the NBA launches their All-Star Weekend celebration in Los Angeles, where Cunningham will be a starter. Pure coincidence, the group swear, but they’re still holding out hope for a future crossover. Maybe that means a halftime set. Maybe it means conducting a music-themed interview series with the starting five.

“Their social team did a thing where [the Pistons] all said they listen to Drake,” Bielanski notes. “So, they do like Canadian music.”

Close enough, at least for now.