EP Review: Diverging Lines

Tāmaki Makaurau indie-pop artist Geoff Ong invites us into an electrified, emotional, and deeply relational world with his latest EP, Diverging Lines. He delivers five songs that are not only full of good vibes and catchy hooks, but are also unflinchingly introspective, beautifully produced, and above all, vulnerably human.

The opening track, Where Will We Go When the Ocean Comes?, immediately cements Ong as not just another indie-pop guy. The pre-chorus is already a delightful surprise, but just as you’re settling in, the chorus swoops in with a lush, percussive sound. The song then has a beautiful, spacious build centred around the haunting refrain, “Am I even trying?” — taken from the pre-chorus but somehow made new with each repetition. What truly elevates this track is Ong’s attention to detail: subtle vocal ad libs, sparkling synth ornamentation, and perfectly timed pauses that create moments of breath before a full-bodied explosion of sound and colour. To think that Ong produced, mixed, and mastered this track (and three others on the EP) himself in his home studio? Unreal. The layering is so cohesive and the mix so clean, that it’s clear we’re listening to an artist with a deep understanding of musical tension and release.

I Am Just A Tapestry shifts gears, opening with the warm strumming of an acoustic guitar. Its chorus introduces one of the most creative melodies on the project — as a music nerd, I found myself geeking out and harmonising along to Ong’s voice. This track is an ode to friendship that is as heartwarming as it is clever. It’s a quietly profound reminder that we are who we are because of those we love. The title is a witty mislead — “just” a tapestry? Hardly. Through lyrics like “I don’t know if you know / All the ways you’re woven into me” and “At least I know how to be human / through hours that I spend with you,” Ong paints a portrait of connection that is anything but small. The bridge, powered by a driving drum build, lifts the song into a climax you didn’t even realise it was heading toward.

Then comes The Internet Is Haunted, a standout track that tackles the strange unreality of digital life and its impact on our very real relationships. Its intro’s electric guitar riff and glittery 80s synths set the technology-esque scene perfectly, while the opening verse — “An abandoned conversation / I’m scrolling up like thread unspooling / If I tug on / On the ribbon / I’ll find the start before you knew me” — is one of the most poetic on the EP. The song bursts into a vibrant first chorus before pulling back just enough to make its second arrival even sweeter. Ong’s falsetto is strong, smooth, full, and bright, really given the time to shine as it’s complemented by delicate backing vocals. A tough call, but this one takes the crown as my favourite track.

When It Gets Easy is the only song on the EP not mixed and mastered by Ong himself (credit here goes to the talented Emily Wheatcroft-Snape). It’s got the catchiest chorus on the EP, with Ong crying out, “I wanna know when it gets easy… to feel this way every day.” Capturing the angst of trying to make peace with yourself, lyrics like these prove that Ong’s songwriting is versatile enough to balance both poetic and hard-hitting, tell-it-like-it-is statements.

Finally, we arrive at the title track, Diverging Lines. And what a closing statement it is. With its heavier instrumental focus and nostalgic chord progression, this song doesn’t just wrap up the EP but forces you to reflect on it. Pulling thematic and sonic threads from every previous track, Diverging Lines is a quiet gut-punch of a song, made even more powerful when you learn it was written to process the loss of a friend to suicide. The echoey, call-and-response backing vocals mirror the feeling of shouting into a void — or a memory — and the chorus’ lyrics, “Stand on the sharpest edge / I know your memory will regress / But what if I wanted you to stay?” hang in the air with a quiet desperation that’s hard to shake. It’s raw and real, with a tangibility that can be heard and felt when listening to the song. Ong doesn’t sensationalise grief. He simply holds it up, gently and honestly, and asks us to take a look.

Ultimately, Diverging Lines is more than an EP. It’s an emotional arc about identity, relationships, and how we learn to be — through pain, through joy, through each other. It’s rare to find a project that moves you not just musically but emotionally. And for me, this one does both. It’s clear that Ong’s strength lies not only in his songwriting, but also in his intuitive grasp of production as a storytelling tool.

Geoff Ong has created something deeply special here — and I, for one, hope to hear these songs in live performance form one day. Whether it’s full band or stripped-back acoustic, there’s no doubt these songs will resonate. Because at its core, Diverging Lines is a love letter to feeling, and it deserves to be felt in full.