by Jeremy Leasure
Wildfires in California block out the sun, ice storms in Texas take out entire power grids, and hurricanes regularly assault the Eastern seaboard. Disastrous occurrences are becoming more and more normalized by the year. In an age hit daily with bad news, it is near impossible to process it all. The era of climate change is upon us, and this is what makes The Weather Station’s new record Ignorance so important. Tamara Lindeman, known by her moniker The Weather Station, has created a record unique to our time of impending climate disaster.
When we last heard from her, The Weather Station released an incredible self-titled record that displayed all of Lindeman’s strength in observational songwriting, as well as newfound confidence in her role as a bandleader. In the song “Thirty,“ she sets free lines like “I noticed fucking everything” over distorted guitars and driving bass and drums. “Kept It All To Myself” is another standout, notable for her mantra-like repetition of the title as swirling strings and cyclical guitars hover above the rock ‘n roll drums. Ultimately though, these developments were only a precursor to her stunning new release, Ignorance.
Throughout Ignorance, Lindeman expresses profound concern for our planet’s future. She shares her experience with personal grief, loss, love, and joy through the lens of her climate anxieties. In the song “Parking Lot,” the beauty of a small bird’s flight around her vehicle becomes a moment of mourning. As she considers the consequences climate change may bring for future songbirds like it. In a recent interview with NPR’s Marissa Lorusso, Lindeman expressed, “I went on to acknowledge that I could care this much and this deeply. To acknowledge that it really matters to me whether or not songbirds survive.” While in the song “Atlantic,” she watches the beauty of a sunset with turmoil. Declaring, “I should get all this dying off of my mind” and that she “should really know better than to read the headlines.” In small scenes like these, she transforms her meditations into epiphanies that connect globally.
No matter how relevant the lyrics might be, this could quickly become a drag if not for the radical transformation The Weather Station takes musically. With an expanded band filled out by multiple drummers, saxophones, flutes, glimmering keyboards, orchestral sections, and more, she has transformed her project into a lithe folk singer art-rock hybrid. Musically, this is a far cry from her early days of hushed acoustic records. Ignorance recalls many significant art and folk-rock touchstones of the ’70s and ’80s. “Trust” almost sounds like late Talk Talk records if Joni Mitchell had fronted them. While “Tried To Tell You” isn’t far from Fleetwood Mac if Brian Eno had produced Tango in the Night. This is most apparent in the opener “Robber” where several drummers lay down a polyrhythmic groove interspersed with skronking saxophone, flute flutters, and dramatic orchestral stabs. All while Lindeman’s voice coolly ties everything together. The effect is breathtaking and sets the tone for the rest of the record.
Many of these songs also break new ground for The Weather Station regarding pop song structure. Listen through The Weather Station’s back catalog, and it’s no secret Lindeman has shied away from standard pop arrangements. A decision in service of her distinct brand of narrative-focused writing. That’s where Ignorance becomes a revelation. This record showcases some of the catchiest melodies Lindeman has ever recorded. “Tried To Tell You” is every bit a match to Christine McVie’s best work with Fleetwood Mac. Simultaneously, the motorik beat in “Heart” propels her vulnerable declarations of love to new heights. All of this unimaginable for The Weather Station of the past. Musically this is the most generous The Weather Station has ever been.
In that earlier NPR interview, Tamara expressed her view of ignorance as a word full of possibility. Stating, “‘I'm not sure that I know everything I need to know’ — that's the moment where you can know. And if you never see your own ignorance, you remain ignorant.” She chooses not to view ignorance for its negative connotations but instead for its ability to humble us. In a world that continually spins out of our control, admitting our lack of understanding is the only path to real change, both personal and universal. Thankfully, on this record, The Weather Station graciously shares a journey of grief and wide-eyed reflection with us all.