Postcards

As the world around them crumbles, Postcards transmute their rage into something transcendental. With their fifth studio album Ripe, the Lebanese trio take everything they’ve built over the past decade and stretch it into new, unexpected directions. Ripe is as much a departure as it is a natural evolution for the band: rawer, darker, but with the same unflinching resolve - a fitting response to the turmoil their region is currently enduring.

Opener "I Stand Corrected" wastes no time setting the tone and themes of the album. We're immediately plunged into a foggy sonic world of distorted guitars, pulsating rhythms and Julia Sabra's ethereal voice singing of rage, destruction, death and perseverance. A repeated mantra of "Destroy, rebuild, you know the drill" announces the cyclicality that runs through the album.

Ripe contains traces of the band's signature dream-pop sound, but the album's energy is jagged, urgent and often explosively raw. Much of it was recorded live at drummer Pascal Semerdjian's family home in the Lebanese mountains, and it shows. Ripe captures the band playing in the same room, at the peak of their powers, and brings the energy and urgency of their live shows into the studio. Long-time producer Fadi Tabbal once again builds a perfect sonic home for the songs, striking a delicate balance between lush and rough, heavy and ethereal.

Sabra handles most guitar duties this time around, and her raw emotive playing is central to this record. Marwan Tohme on bass and Semerdjian on drums have equally distinct voices, but it's the sum of these parts and the synergy between them that really shines through. The band often locks into hypnotic grooves, with tracks like the foggy "Colorblind" and the razor-sharp "Poison" revealing a rhythmic pulse that feels surprising given the heaviness and dissonance of the material. And while there's a deliberate shift from an earlier synth-driven sound to a more guitar-centric palette, atmospheric layers still weave through the album. The result is a sound that feels both visceral and expansive.

"Dust Bunnies", the album's lead single, brings a menacing unsettling atmosphere that recalls PJ Harvey's darker moments. It's a laundry list of the frustrations that come out of living in Lebanon, tapping into a primordial rage passed down through generations and culminating in Sabra belting out "Our ancestors may have known / There's nowhere left to go". Its fatalistic outlook is countered in "Ruins", a powerful reflection on perseverance: "Like roots among stones / We carry on". Throughout the album, the band navigates the fragile spaces between hope and despair, resignation and resilience.

These themes take on a sharper edge in the context of the band's homeland. With the ongoing Israeli genocide in Gaza and the attacks on south Lebanon - that have now spread to Beirut and beyond - Postcards channel the ever-present violence into their music. They have always had a political edge through a very personal lens. As violence inches ever closer, Ripe grapples with life in Lebanon and what it means to stay.
But the band refuses to be consumed by the darkness.
Ripe might be a record born out of anger, grief, and uncertainty, but it’s also one of defiance. It’s Postcards at their most brutal, at their most vulnerable, and at their most assured. They’ve grown darker, but in doing so, they’ve found a new clarity. The album's title evokes that growth and maturity. Postcards’ and our world might be breaking at the seams but the band is confident and firmly grounded, their foundations deep in the ground, their music stretching out to ever higher heights. Amidst the despair of the first track, there is a glimmer of hope: “Hold on to you / I think I’m onto something”. Indeed, this band is onto something. And amidst the noise, amidst the rage, they’ve made something ferociously beautiful.

Karl Mattar, December 2024