On “Decompression Chamber” by Pocket Diver

As the sun goes down, the campus lawn becomes an almost liminal space, shadowy shapes of people separated by the void of an empty field. Light comes from the buildings on either side; sound comes from student drummers practicing in the gazebo across the street. It’s here that a small crowd of about twenty, mostly freshmen, gather for the release party of the new Pocket Diver EP “Decompression Chamber.” Blankets stretch out on the ultra-short grass, everyone craning their heads towards a small but mighty Bluetooth speaker and eagerly awaiting the beat drop.

“Decompression Chamber” is an album well-suited to this space between day and night, between teenager and adult. It deals with timeless themes of resistance and shifting identity. Pocket Diver proves herself capable of working in multiple sub-genres of indie rock, whether it’s the harsh electric guitar and hard-rock sensibilities of “Spit It Out” or the relaxing, steady pads and hats of “Lost In The Move.”

She paints herself as a sort of trickster, taking on the system with wit and flippant poise. “Cops said stop in the name of science/But I got my degree in malicious compliance,” she sings in the first track, “Moving Target.” Other tracks, like the softer “Honest Work,” show off a more uncertain side. With the vocal up-front and well-seasoned with reverb, she admits to being a “con man born on the bandstand” and speculates about how her life might be different in a different time. This is not an EP you listen to only once. This is an EP you listen to once, nod your head at the effortlessly clever lyrical delivery, and then go back and listen to it three more times to see what all those words actually mean combined together.

This is not an EP you listen to only once.