Tania Saleh’s ‘Fragile’ is an Anthem for the Exiled

Lebanese singer-songwriter and visual artist Tania Saleh - one of the most influential figures who helped shape the alternative scene in the 90s - returns with a deeply personal album, ‘Fragile’.

A heartfelt anthem for the Arab communities living in exile, the album offers a glimpse into a raw and introspective chapter of Tania’s life, inspired by her forced departure from Lebanon and the emotional reckoning that followed. “The idea for this album came to me after leaving my home country, Lebanon, due to a series of problems. Having to restart my life in exile, I felt I needed brainwashing to remove all the soot from my mind, to start anew, and to change the monotonous ringtone of my life.” Tania Saleh tells SceneNoise. “I wanted to continue the long, plaintive path to a certain territorial and emotional stability.”

With compelling stylistic confidence and poetic lyricism, Tania makes her fractured memories of home, longings and hopes audible, inviting the audience on her personal quest for emotional stability. Over 10 tracks, she distils this journey through an innovative blend of folk, jazz and alternative rock influences, woven into layers of Arabic instrumentation, crafting a cohesive sonic memoir that is as delicate as it is turbulent and haunting.

On the opener, ‘Ghasseel Dmegh’ (Brainwash), Tania sets a surprisingly vibrant tone, where her introspective lyrics ride atop joyful hand-drum and pulsing basslines. But, as we move to ‘Matrah’, the mood shifts with a sparse, contemplative ballad where flutes and keys underscore her quiet solitude and reflections on displacement.

‘Inta Ma Shi’ (You are Nothing) stands out as one of the album’s most emotionally charged tunes. Tania leans into spoken word over brooding electronic textures, capturing the feeling of emptiness and the identity crisis that comes with living in exile. Midway through, a heart-wrenching flute solo gives way to a powerful and reassuring reversal in the outro, where she sings, ‘Enta Kul Shee’ (You are everything), a declaration of self-worth.

In ‘Leh’ (Why), over melancholic oud arrangements, Saleh poses existential questions about a world unravelling amidst war, displacement, environmental collapse, and digital alienation. The album closes with 'Ghayr El Sama' (Nothing but the Sky), where orchestral strings and subtle percussion rise and fall like waves under her voice and evocative words, contemplating identity when everything else has been stripped away.