Concerts

The Postmarks

Florida is probably the last place you'd expect to find a French-pop-influenced, trip-hop-tinged indie band. The place isn't exactly a wellspring of sophisticated bohemian music. It's much better known for churning out a seemingly endless supply of rap rock and crap rock. Nonetheless, that's where the Postmarks hang their hats...
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Florida is probably the last place you’d expect to find a French-pop-influenced, trip-hop-tinged indie band. The place isn’t exactly a wellspring of sophisticated bohemian music. It’s much better known for churning out a seemingly endless supply of rap rock and crap rock. Nonetheless, that’s where the Postmarks hang their hats. With a combination of mid-tempo, Burt Bacharach-penned lounge and the noise-collage über-cool of Broadcast, the act has crafted a sound that’s retro yet timeless — in an old Beach Boys record sort of way. Led by the breathy vocals of a girl named Tim Yehezkely, who conjures Saint Etienne’s Sarah Cracknell with her warm, ethereal presence, the Postmarks guide listeners on languid journeys of self-discovery marked by subtle atmospheres, finely nuanced pacing and a gentle touch. Thanks to the Postmarks, the Sunshine State’s days of getting a bad rap may be over.

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