Purplasylum

The Weather Station

Humanhood - Released 17-JAN-2024 on Fat Possum

With "Humanhood," Tamara Lindeman, aka The Weather Station, crafts a fascinating bridge between the textural richness of 2021's "Ignorance" and the contemplative nature of 2022's "How Should I Look at the Stars." This latest offering sees Lindeman at her most experimental, weaving sophisticated pop with salon jazz while maintaining a polished, high-fidelity production that has become her hallmark.

The album opens with "Neon Signs," where fluid piano work and eager drums dance beneath Lindeman's characteristically moody vocals, adorned with playful flute and string accents. It's a piece that would feel equally at home in orchestral FM rotation or a Village Vanguard setlist. But where previous Weather Station albums focused primarily on meticulous construction, "Humanhood" finds equal fascination in deconstruction, exploring the spaces between completion and dissolution.

This avant-garde sensibility manifests beautifully in "Window," where Lindeman's vocals navigate an understated discord of percussion, synths, and fuzzy guitars. "Ribbon" further pushes this exploration, playing with staccato and glissando contrasts, while tight, rim-focused drumwork and a dynamically shifting piano create an ever-evolving soundscape.

"Mirror" emerges as a standout track, marrying summer-tinged melodies with rock-influenced beats and synth textures that evoke late-night epiphanies. Lindeman's vocal performance here strikes a remarkable balance, channeling Jenny Hval's art-pop experimentation while maintaining the accessible appeal of Sarah McLachlan or Joni Mitchell.

The title track delves deep into human conditioning and exhaustion ("I been... carrying a body that's tired from carrying a mind"), while "Body Moves" continues this mind-body dialogue with a more playful instrumental interplay between piano and fiddle. "Lonely" stands as the album's most introspective moment, with Lindeman turning her habitual mistrust inward, backed by ephemeral instrumentation that recalls recent work by Cassandra Jenkins.

Throughout "Humanhood," certain words surface repeatedly like buoys in Lindeman's ocean of sound: body, water, trust, knot, and most frequently, pain. This pain manifests in various forms - sometimes shattering and physical, other times fundamentally ordinary: "My pain is ordinary, I'm just like anybody." The album culminates in the contemplative "Sewing," where Lindeman weaves together life's contrasting patterns of "pride and shame, beauty and guilt," finally finding peace in life's dualities: "I'm taking pictures of the sky again, I don't know why—I guess I wanted to."

While the improvisational tone and occasional discordance might challenge some listeners, Lindeman's masterful reconciliation of minimalist and maximalist tendencies creates a compelling narrative about human experience. "Humanhood" stands as a testament to finding ground in uncertainty, making peace with pain, and rediscovering joy in life's simple acts. It's a bold step forward for The Weather Station, one that honors past works while fearlessly charting new territory.