Coming out of Leeds, England, Higher Power surprised more than one observer with 27 Miles Underwater, released in 2020. Where the band had made its name with a fairly classic hardcore, this record makes a marked turn toward an alternative rock tinged with nineties influences. The gamble is bold: to keep the energy and attitude of hardcore while opening up to more melodic textures and more ambitious songwriting. The result divides as much as it intrigues.
An owned turn
The band’s evolution is obvious from the opening bars. The guitars borrow as much from grunge and alternative as from hardcore, the vocals turn more melodic, and the structures loosen to make room for catchy choruses. You think of a whole generation of bands that, at the turn of the nineties, managed to fuse power and melody. Higher Power claims that heritage without apology and updates it with a conviction that commands respect, even among those the mutation unsettles.
Between power and melody
The album’s great interest lies in its ability to navigate between several registers. Some songs keep a wholly hardcore nerve, while others venture toward more soaring or groovy moods. That variety avoids monotony but also exposes the record to a slight lack of unity: you move from one world to another without always perceiving the thread. Still, the whole attests to a genuine desire to explore, carried by musicians who refuse to be locked into a single box. The guitar textures, richer and more worked than before, attest to real care given to production and atmosphere. You sense a band discovering new tools and taking obvious pleasure in seizing them, even at the cost of some groping along the way.
A risky gamble
This kind of stylistic turn always carries a share of risk. By moving away from pure hardcore, Higher Power exposes itself to disappointing a segment of its original audience while seeking to win over a new one. The record does not always find consensus, and one might fault it for not pushing its logic all the way, sometimes stopping halfway between two aesthetics. Yet this daring deserves to be saluted: few bands agree to take such risks at the moment their initial formula was working.
In the end, 27 Miles Underwater stands as a fascinating transitional record, imperfect but rich with promise. It attests to a band in full mutation, eager to move beyond the borders of hardcore to explore a wider, more personal territory. Those expecting a mere extension of their beginnings may be thrown, but open-minded listeners will find a stimulating and sincere proposition here. Higher Power delivers a courageous record, one that counts as much for what it achieves as for what it heralds.
