|The Weather Station — The Weather Station (October 6th, 2017)|
The Weather Station — The Weather Station (Oct. 6th, 2017) •≡•≡• The Weather Station has been acclaimed for her “measured, perceptive storytelling… an unmistakable and communicative voice, able to convey hope and hurt with equal clarity” (Pitchfork). With The Weather Station, Lindeman reinvents her songcraft with a vital new energy, framing her prose~poem narratives in bolder musical settings. It’s an emotionally candid statement — a work of urgency, generosity and joy — that feels like a collection of obliquely gut~punching short stories.
•≡•≡• “I wanted to make a rock and roll record,” Lindeman explains, “but one that sounded how I wanted it to sound, which of course is nothing like rock and roll.” The result declares its understated feminist politics and new sonic directions from its first moments. There are big, buzzing guitars, thrusting drums, horror~movie strings and her keening, Appalachian~tinged vocal melodies. Reaching towards a sort of accelerated talking blues, she sings with a new rapid~fire vocal style.
•≡•≡• After two records made in close collaboration with other musicians, including Loyalty, which FADER called “the best folk album of the year,” and Exclaim!echoed with a stellar 9/10, Lindeman self~produced for the first time since her debut. •≡•≡• The band comprised touring bassist Ben Whiteley, drummer Don Kerr, and guests, including Ryan Driver (Jennifer Castle), Ben Boye (Ty Segall, Ryley Walker), and Will Kidman (The Constantines). But the heaviest thumbprint on the record belongs to Lindeman; she wrote the dense, often dissonant string arrangements and played most of the wending, tumbling guitar lines.Location: Toronto, Ontario, Canada
Genre: Indie Singer~Songwriter
Album release: October 6th, 2017
Record Label: Paradise of Bachelors/SOUTSIDE MUSIC
01. Free 3:08
02. Thirty 3:41
03. You And I (On The Other Side Of The World) 4:41
04. Kept It All To Myself 3:11
05. Impossible 3:25
06. Power 4:37
07. Complicit 3:34
08. Black Flies 2:13
09. I Don’t Know What To Say 2:49
10. In An Hour 2:55
11. The Most Dangerous Thing About You 3:32
≡ Tamara Lindeman
≡ Ben Whiteley
≡ Ian Kehoe
≡ “Timeless... Measured, perceptive storytelling. A singer with an unmistakable & communicative voice, able to convey hope & hurt with equal clarity.” — Pitchfork
≡ The Weather Station is the fourth — and most forthright — album by The Weather Station, the project of Toronto songwriter Tamara Lindeman. Her most fully realized statement to date, it is a work of profound urgency, artistic generosity, and joy. Self~titled and self~produced, the album unearths a vital new energy from Lindeman’s acclaimed songwriting practice, marrying it to a bold new sense of confidence.
≡ “I wanted to make a rock and roll record,” Lindeman explains, “but one that sounded how I wanted it to sound, which of course is nothing like rock and roll.” The result is a spirited, frequently topical tour de force that declares its understated feminist politics, and its ambitious new sonic directions, from its first moments. On past records, Lindeman has been a master of economy. Here her precisely detailed prose~poem narratives remain as exquisitely wrought as ever, but they inhabit an idiosyncratic, sometimes disorderly, and often daring album that feels, and reads, like a collection of obliquely gut~unching short stories.
≡ Her previous album Loyalty was recorded at La Frette Studios in France in the winter of 2014 with Afie Jurvanen (Bahamas) and Robbie Lackritz (Feist). Nominated for the 2015 Polaris Music Prize, it earned praise from The Guardian, Pitchfork, NPR Music, Uncut, and MOJO, among many others, who celebrated its delicate, carefully worded verse, filled with double meanings, ambiguities, complex metaphors, and rich details of the everyday.
≡ Lindeman and her band have toured extensively in North America, Europe, Australia, and Japan, both as a headliner and as support for artists such as The War on Drugs, The Mountain Goats, Damien Jurado, Bahamas, and Basia Bulat.
KEPT IT ALL TO MYSELF
≡ There were days when the luminescence of the skies or the deep brown grasses struck me so hard in the early evening — I can hardly take it, that light feeling. I rode up past St Clair, same old city but it could have been anywhere. And the scent of the air so exotic, every thought like I never have thought it. Then I felt that confidence in me, like a child in a strange new body. I kept it all to myself.
≡ Sometimes I loved you unadulterated purely, untouched by doubt or by my memory. Sometimes I loved you in a shadowed way, windscreen clearing but still streaked with grey. Sometimes we held hands like we were children, and I’d never known anything different. Like I’d never known anything different, like I’d never known. I tried to leave you; I left only myself. Before I knew it, I was down in the well. Sometimes I felt like I was floating, high by the ceiling as we were just talking, and kind faces would change on me — eyes and nose and mouth, unfamiliar assembly. I kept it all to myself.
≡ I got so tired of all of the subtext, the subtleties and the minute regrets. You were smiling like you thought I couldn’t see you, like you’re afraid of what I might reveal in you. Is it better if I look away? If all I know I never do say? My love is the heaviest thing, I understand if you don’t want to wear my ring. My love is the heaviest thing so I kept it all to myself. You would think I had so much wealth, if I kept it all to myself.
Loyalty review, by Grayson Haver: https://pitchfork.com/reviews/albums/20330-loyalty/
Sam Sodomsky, JULY 19 2017
≡ The power of Tamara Lindeman’s music is in the details. Even more than her stark melodies, which often share the persistent flow of a car in motion, her lyrics provide the momentum, unfolding her narratives with patience and precision. In “Thirty,” the first single from Lindeman’s fourth album as the Weather Station, she doesn’t waste any time spelling it out: “I noticed fucking everything,” she sings.
≡ Stemming from what Lindeman calls her “rock and roll record,” “Thirty” adds a new urgency to her music. In a vigorous fast~forward, she speeds from scene to scene, watching as the economy goes bust, kids get older, familiar faces grow distant. The music is similarly sweeping, kicking up dust with a steady acoustic guitar riff that Lindeman mirrors with her stoic delivery. But even with the added force, she can’t help but linger on quiet moments. “Just then an ambulance passed on the street/And you took my arm reflexively,” she sings before reaching the song’s closing refrain: “That was the year I was thirty/That was the year you were thirty~one.” As things move faster, she suggests that these subtle, shared moments are how we mark time. Few songwriters capture them with such fluidity.≡ https://pitchfork.com/_____________________________________________________________
|The Weather Station — The Weather Station (October 6th, 2017)|