The notes to the Weather Station’s seventh album declare, “This record was performed by six musicians improvising live off the floor in two sessions in late 2023. This band shaped the music indelibly in form, arrangement, mood, and feeling.” In other words, it is not a Tamara Lindeman solo release. Linderman is the lead singer and composer as well as piano, synth, and Mellotron player. The record is built around her, but the band’s input is essential. It’s challenging to consider Linderman’s achievements without the other instrumentalists. The improvisatory creative act (the making of the record) suggests the group functions as a whole, but make no mistake, Linderman is the leader here.
Humanhood sounds very similar to the Weather Station‘s past few full-length releases. Fans of those albums will find much to appreciate here. A rich, poetic sensibility informs the lyrics and extends through to the instrumentation. The LP begins with a minute-long instrumental called “Descent” that evokes William Carlow Williams’ famous first lines from a poem with the same name: “The descent beckons / As the ascent beckoned / Memory is a kind / Of accomplishment / A sort of renewal / Even an initiation / Since the spaces it opens are new places.”
The Weather Station’s songs follow the same progression as Williams’ poem. The process begins with a falling away only to rise and then start again with a new perspective. The songs have short titles such as “Window”, “Passage” and “Aurora” and are meant to be evocative rather than narrative. They do not tell a story as much as create a mood.
The opening track begins with a flute solo that blossoms into an ensemble piece before abruptly ending with a martial drumbeat. It is an aural journey downward, ala Williams, that immediately bounces back into the present as the drums re-emerge at the beginning of the next track. We are in the land of memory and renewal. “I’ve gotten used to feeling like I am crazy”, Linderman sings.
These are the album’s first words. The song concerns feeling in and out of love. Kieran Adams’ cadenced drumming ties everything together as the other performers (Ben Boye – piano, Hydrasynth; synth bass, Wurlitzer, Pianet; Philippe Melanson – percussion, drums, electronic drums; Karen Ng – saxophone, clarinet, flute; Ben Whiteley – bass, synth bass) join in the melee. The track moves, but not just in one direction.
Describing the Weather Station’s sound to the uninitiated is a difficult task. There’s a cacophony of noise that nevertheless has a surface calm. Think of a gurgling river before it arrives at a waterfall. Now imagine the water is comprised of electronically aided musical instruments. There is an identifiable signature to the music. One wouldn’t mistake the ensemble for any of their peers (Big Thief, Mitski). The 13 cuts offer the same distinctive patter in various incantations. Once the tone is set, the music evolves into new designs, but the blueprint is essentially the same.
On tracks such as “Ribbon”, “Mirror”, “Body Moves” and “Window”, Linderman seems overwrought but never overwhelmed. She opens with a personal statement or question and explains how she feels while the band offer comments through squeals and riffs that decorate the emotional weight of what’s being conveyed. Linderman is “very aware”, as she puts it in “Irreversible Damage” of what is gone. She seeks permanence but understands that nothing stays the same.
In the title song, the singer admits feeling cut off from other people and worried about the future of humanity. Her body and mind feel disconnected from her authentic self. Her voice gets lost in the mélange of musical accompaniment. It is only then that she understands life itself is precious. According to Linderman, everything is broken.
That’s true of non-tangible objects like memory, love, and understanding, as well as physical objects. Her sadness is tempered by the knowledge that something is always born out of chaos. For example, she can croon hopefully about being “Lonely” because she understands it won’t last. A simple touch, the right sound, and even a memory can change everything.
Humanhood finds the Weather Station going deep to find whatever heaven may exist on the surface above. The implied answer is that everything we need is already inside of us. That’s what makes us human and is part of our shared connection with each other.