Horizontal Hotel by The Mostar Diving Club: A Journey Through Sound and Soul
Let’s get one thing straight—Horizontal Hotel isn’t just another album. Released in 2015 under BMG, this gem from The Mostar Diving Club feels like a warm hug on a cold day. It’s got that mix of singer/songwriter intimacy, pop hooks, folk charm, world vibes, and even a dash of country twang. If you’re looking for something real, raw, and unpolished yet beautifully crafted, this is it.
The whole thing was pulled together by Will Worsley—he produced, mixed, recorded… basically did everything but write the songs (props to Damian Katkhuda for that). And Frank Arkwright mastered it, so yeah, these tracks sound crisp as hell. But let’s not geek out too much about credits—what matters is how it feels.
Now, I gotta talk about two tracks that stuck with me because they’re hauntingly good. First up, “Quiet Hands.” Man, this song hits different. There’s no grand explosion of sound or flashy production—it’s stripped back, almost whispery. The lyrics feel like someone letting you in on their secret late at night when everyone else is asleep. You can hear the hesitations, the cracks in the voice, and it makes you stop whatever you’re doing to listen closer. It’s melancholy but hopeful, kinda like staring out at an empty beach during sunset. Weirdly comforting.
Then there’s “Old Yellow Sun,” which caught me off guard the first time I heard it. It starts slow, almost lazy, like waking up after a long sleep. But then it builds into this gorgeous swell of strings and harmonies that feels like sunlight breaking through clouds. By the end, I swear my heart skipped a beat. Maybe it’s the imagery in the words, or maybe it’s just the way the melody wraps around you, but damn—it stays with you. Like, hours later, you’ll find yourself humming it while brushing your teeth.
The rest of the album? Solid gold. Tracks like “Blood Pact” and “Scattered Flowers” keep the momentum going without ever feeling forced. Even though some songs repeat (like “Crooked Sea, Cuckoo’s Nest”), it doesn’t bother me. In fact, hearing them again feels like running into an old friend unexpectedly—you’re kinda glad to see ‘em twice.
What strikes me most about Horizontal Hotel is its honesty. This isn’t music made to chase trends or blow up charts. It’s personal, reflective, and deeply human. Listening to it feels like flipping through someone’s journal—not perfect, not always polished, but achingly real.
And here’s the kicker—it reminds me of why we fall in love with music in the first place. Not because it’s flawless, but because it touches something inside us we didn’t even know needed touching. So if you’re tired of overproduced playlists and shiny TikTok hits, give this one a spin. Hell, pour yourself a cuppa tea while you’re at it. You won’t regret it.
Oh, and fun fact—the band’s name comes from a diving club in Bosnia. How random is that? Goes to show, sometimes beauty comes from the strangest places.
