Ride - This Is Not A Safe Place (2LP)

Ride’s second act has been far more than a nostalgia tour, and This Is Not A Safe Place lands as proof. The album arrived on 16 August 2019 via Wichita Recordings, produced by Erol Alkan with mixing from longtime ally Alan Moulder. It is their sixth LP and the follow-up to 2017’s Weather Diaries, a record that dusted off the shoegaze shimmer and set up a fresh run. Here, they lean into a darker, leaner palette while keeping that unmistakable twin-guitar glow that made the Oxford quartet a fixture in the first place.

What stands out first is the confidence in the blend. Andy Bell and Mark Gardener still trade melodies like brothers, but now they wrap those lines around wiry post-punk angles and pulsing electronics. Steve Queralt’s bass carries a lot of the mood, often chugging with a motorik patience that gives Loz Colbert room to spring-load the beat. Alkan’s production favors clarity and space, which lets the guitars breathe rather than blur. Moulder’s mix catches the high-end haze without smearing the rhythm section, so the record feels present and modern even when it flirts with classic Ride drift.

The singles told the story in chapters. Future Love, released in May, arrived as a bright, jangly postcard. It is dreamy but grounded, the sort of chorus you can sing in a crowd even if the lyrics hint at uncertainty. Repetition shifted the focus to a taut, bass-led groove and a mantra that feels like both warning and release. Then Clouds of Saint Marie brought back open-sky guitars and a melody that nods to Going Blank Again era lift, though the edges are sharper. Deeper in, Jump Jet turns anxiety into momentum, the guitars turning in tight circles while the drums nudge the song forward. The sequencing keeps the pulse moving. There is enough drift to please anyone who came for the swirl, but the songs rarely lose their spine.

Lyrically, the record stares straight at unease without getting dour. You can hear the tension of phones, news cycles, and sleepless travel flicker through these tracks. Bell and Gardener often sing like they are holding a light for each other in a dark hall, a small kindness that makes the title feel earned rather than coy. That balance is Ride’s trick in 2019. The band that once chased tidal waves now finds meaning in undertow and detail, and that restraint hits hard.

Critics heard it too. The album drew warm notices from NME, The Guardian, and Pitchfork, who all clocked the shift toward serrated post-punk colors without losing the band’s core identity. In the UK it landed in the Top 10, a neat reminder that this reunion has legs. On stage, the new songs sat comfortably next to Nowhere and Going Blank Again staples, which says a lot about their durability. Fans did not just tolerate the fresh material, they leaned into it.

If you are crate-digging, This Is Not A Safe Place vinyl rewards the hunt. The production’s clean lines and wide stereo field shine on wax, letting Queralt’s bass rumble and the cymbals sit just right. Ride vinyl tends to hold value because the band’s catalog never fell out of rotation for long, and this one feels like a keeper rather than a placeholder. If you are browsing a Melbourne record store or scanning sites that ship vinyl records Australia wide, keep an eye out for a copy in good shape. It is also easy to buy Ride records online if your local racks are thin, and there is real satisfaction in filing this alongside other Ride albums on vinyl, from the storm of Nowhere to the sugar-rush of Going Blank Again and the renewed spark of Weather Diaries.

What makes the album stick is how lived-in it feels. Ride are not chasing youth here, they are listening closely to each other and to the world outside the studio. Erol Alkan gives them room to push, and Moulder ties it together with a mixer’s ear for tension and release. By the time the needle lifts, you are left with a record that honors the band’s past while speaking in the voice they have now. Not safe, no, but sure of itself. That is the sweet spot, and it sounds great at volume.