Review Summary: sloppily thriving
I think I stumbled upon Happy Diving after semi-lazily searching for a Horse Jumper of Love equivalent, scrolling through the Spotify-generated “related artists” page as if it were a musical choose your own adventure. After previewing ‘Sad Planet’, however, I’m pretty sure I cut that domino effect short; it was one of those songs that after hearing you just
prayed that the rest of the album sounded exactly like it.
Big World proves to be a satisfying answer to those hopes and dreams as it’s a sludge-ridden alt-rock splatterpiece, sloppy in form yet endearing in nature. I don’t want to undermine the heaviness of this record though by simply lumping it under another emo-gaze descriptor. In all actuality, while on paper it conforms to these emo-gaze tropes, this beast is much more punk in personality as the distortion pedals are turned all the way up to 11 and the strings are loosened to the point where even an untrained ear could pick out the carelessness. That’s just it though, Happy Diving don’t seem to care too much about sounding like a tight, professional band but rather they are extremely content with perfecting a
sound built around some short pop-punk song structures.
I don’t mind too much, though, as it was this sound that attracted me to these guys in the first place. When I’m in the mood for some crunchy, low-end worship this album is my go to. ‘Space Ooze’ is an instant favorite due to the wailing lead riff that monstrously blends into a grimy 2-minute flare of energy. Most songs follow in its footsteps, either hazily or with passion, but both paths seem to lead to the same destination of unclean melancholia. Closer ‘10’ is the fuzziest offender of revealing its substance influences, yet the long-winded effort ends up acting as an anthem for
Big World, in a way. As Matt Berry confesses “I don't know where I'm going but I feel it”, as a listener the album’s perspective becomes surprisingly clear. It’s riddled with uncertainties and imperfections, both in self-analysis and in musical form, yet in the end it’s this feeling the band is chasing; the indescribable emotion that comes with letting go while still caring deep down inside. I’m under the impression that Happy Diving is able to strike that satisfying medium between the dirt and the ocean; they’re sinking but still kicking.
