Matt Maltese – ‘Driving Just To Drive’ review: an ode to the power of everyday beauty

25 April, 2023

Matt Maltese

From his 2018 major label debut ‘Bad Contestant’ onwards, Matt Maltese has reshaped his sound and character album-to-album, highlighting his charm, smarts and constructive humour – all of which have afforded him the space to exorcise heartbreak in a playful spirit. In the same time period, the 25-year-old has grown to become one of Britain’s most prolific young songwriters, churning out four full-length records and an EP, as well as yielding writing credits for NME 100 alumni including Etta Marcus, Katie Gregson-Macleod and Sophie May.

Read More: Five things we learned from our In Conversation video chat with Matt Maltese

The pace and volume of Maltese’s output, however, meant that his early 20s were largely spent either in the studio or on the road; he’d become consistent enough for fans to perhaps take his ubiquity for granted. He earned a Billboard-charting hit in the epic ‘As The World Caves In’ which became an unexpected TikTok phenomenon in June 2021, four years after it first dropped. Yet the viral success would prove a turning point: following the release of his third album ‘Good Morning It’s Now Tomorrow’ four months later, Maltese was ready to bid adieu to a busy schedule, and reconnect with his younger self. He’d earned his floaty, joy-filled record.

With its unhurried vibe and ebullient, largely optimistic melodies, for Maltese, ‘Driving Just To Drive’ represents a major change – and one that he commands. That sense of release is evident not only in the wide spectrum of styles he adopts here, but in the certainty with which he pushes his homespun pop sound outwards. Guided by a funky piano line, ‘Florence’ conjures warm memories of a transformative teenage gig for Maltese; later, ‘Suspend Your Disbelief’ luxuriates in an ambiance of lo-fi sound effects, banjos and peppy drums. A guest vocal from Biig Piig on ‘Coward’, meanwhile, amplifies a set of luminous harmonies.

Musically, Maltese has no less fun than what he does with the content of his lyrics. He often commits his relationship anxieties to record with wit and levity, to make light of the various states of existential horror he finds himself in. “You said that men like me can’t make their mind up / I think you’re wrong but I can’t decide,” he quips on ‘Mortician’.

Despite its overarching playfulness, ‘Driving Just To Drive’ has a central, standout moment of disquiet. On ‘Widows’, Maltese’s lyrics feel purposefully restrained: “And pull your blinds up / Watch the sky fall / Catch the birds’ funeral song.” Fans of Maltese’s typically lucid approach may find this impressionism frustrating, but it gradually builds an effective picture of fear. Here, his sense of scale is more nuanced and outward-facing than ever before, and in turn, Maltese’s writing will continue to become all the more captivating for it.