In the ever-evolving world of indie psych rock, few stories feel as heartwarmingly authentic as a band reuniting after years apart, fueled by nothing more than friendship and a shared creative itch. Post Animal’s fifth studio album, Iron, released on July 25, 2025, embodies that narrative perfectly. This ten-track gem marks the triumphant return of all six original members—Dalton Allison, Jake Hirshland, Javier Reyes, Wesley Toledo, Matt Williams, and the notably busy Joe Keery (of Djo and Stranger Things fame)—who hadn’t collaborated fully since 2017. What emerges from their month-long retreat in an Indiana woodland A-frame isn’t just music; it’s a testament to the unbreakable bonds that time and distance can’t erode. The album pulses with a renewed energy, blending nostalgic indie rock with psychedelic flourishes, all wrapped in a loose yet confident vibe that feels like eavesdropping on old friends jamming around a campfire.
From the outset, Iron sets a tone of intimate reconnection. The opening instrumental, “Malcolm’s Cooking,” is a gentle fingerpicking guitar piece that captures the essence of their recording sessions—complete with ambient woodland sounds, laughter, cheers, and the clink of glasses. It’s a simple, homely prelude that invites listeners into the band’s world, hinting at the joy of rediscovery. This flows seamlessly into the lead single “Last Goodbye,” a groovy number that marries dark, wandering verses with a chorus that echoes classic rock anthems. The lyrics delve into the acceptance of a relationship’s end, with contrasting vocals—one apathetic, another altered—highlighting internal conflicts. Lines like “I try to love every corner of your mind / But we’ve been going off the deep end” convey a resigned finality, yet the track’s collaborative songwriting shines through, showcasing the band’s ability to weave personal introspection into something universally relatable.
As the album progresses, Post Animal leans into their strengths: vulnerability and sonic experimentation. Tracks like “Maybe You Have To” stand out for their emotional depth, incorporating a poignant voicemail from Toledo’s late grandmother to layer melancholy over synth-driven beats. It’s a darker moment that balances grief with subtle humor, preventing the heaviness from overwhelming the listener. This human touch—grief tempered by levity—feels strikingly real, reflecting the band’s growth through life’s ups and downs. On the brighter side, “Pie in the Sky” bursts with 80s sunshine pop energy, reminiscent of Wham! or ELO, with Keery’s elastic vocals driving an upbeat, dreamy vibe. It’s the kind of track that evokes sepia-toned summer montages, packed with earnest adoration and a giddy bass line that makes you want to dance.
The album’s crown jewel, however, is “What’s a Good Life,” a liberating anthem of self-acceptance. Keery belts out lines like “For the first time in my life / It’s fine that I’m not perfect / Nobody’s fool / Nobody’s cool / It’s who you are,” capturing the overjoyed rush of radical self-realization. The chorus lifts the entire record skyward, blending subtle melancholy with triumphant introspection. It’s here that Post Animal’s songwriting feels sharpest, drawing on their collective experiences to explore what makes life fulfilling amid imperfection. Other highlights include “Setting Sun,” with its churning synth washes and chunky guitars, and “Common Denominator,” where warm drums and sparse instrumentation ponder life’s highs and lows with a tender, folk-infused wisdom.
Not everything on Iron is seamless, though. The band rotates lead vocals among members, which adds variety but occasionally disrupts the flow. “Dorien Kregg,” for instance, dives into theatrical, psychedelic storytelling with abstract lyrics and sonic twists that feel like a delightful trip, yet it sits somewhat out of place amid the album’s more cohesive moments. There’s a slight muted quality to some metaphors, and the record’s brevity—at just 37 minutes—leaves you craving more. In a way, this brevity underscores the band’s precision; they say what they need to without filler, a sign of maturity. Still, it prompts the lingering question of what defines a quintessential Post Animal sound, especially as they blend grungy indie rock, expansive psych, and even folk elements into something that feels both vintage and modern.
What makes Iron truly special is its origin story. After years of burnout, relocations, and individual pursuits—Keery’s acting career pulling him away, others scattering across states—the band reconvened not for fame or pressure, but for the sheer pleasure of creating together. Holed up in that Indiana cabin, surrounded by fall foliage and home-cooked meals, they rediscovered their roots. The result is an album that’s loose where it wants to be, locked-in where it needs to be, and always alive with the energy of reconnection. It’s not a comeback in the traditional sense—Post Animal never faded away—but it feels like one, arriving on the heels of Keery’s The Crux and amid tours where band members double up in his live setup.
In the end, Iron oozes authenticity, elevating Post Animal into stronger territory. It’s a poignant exploration of friendship, loss, and growth, wrapped in refined prog-rock with pastoral folk undertones. For fans of bands like Tame Impala or Pink Floyd, this record taps back into psychedelic rock’s elemental strut while adding a layer of sincere closeness that’s rare in today’s fragmented music scene. Whether you’re drawn to its nostalgic glitter or its introspective heart, Iron proves that sometimes, the best music comes from simply getting the band back together. If this is the start of a new chapter, count me in for whatever comes next.
