The Weather Station focuses on climate change
Robber creeps into your mind palace and sets up shop. Hi-hats tentatively tap into formation, an atmospheric surge of strings gathers round a rogue piano and, by the time the close, whispered husk of Tamara Lindeman’s voice seeps from the speaker, you are immersed in the exquisite world building of The Weather Station.
Ignorance is the fifth record from this Canadian folk outfit and while the lineup has changed substantially over time, Lindeman remains its central character. For her, this record is a reckoning, a chance to finally face the insidious fear that gnaws quietly yet persistently in the back of her mind: the consequences of climate change. She’s not alone.
Many in her generation (Lindeman is 36) speak openly about the anger and hopelessness they feel as the world heads towards disaster, while Earth’s power brokers furiously burrow their heads in the sand. Ignorance. Impotence. These are valid, widespread feelings.
‘‘I tried to wear the world like some kinda jacket. It does not keep me warm, I cannot seem to fasten it,’’ she croons on Wear. Lindeman is in the world, but not of it. Her dexterous voice is used to full effect in songs such as
Trust; tiny tricks switch her vibrant low range to hushed tones in intimate streams of consciousness.
Listened to in its entirety, this album sometimes feels like Wilco’s Yankee Hotel Foxtrot or Lost In The Dream by War On Drugs, with explorative, intuitive riffs searching for melodies in strange nooks and crannies. Then you’re blindsided by hooks that pop with Chrissie Hyndecalibre catchiness. You might even pick up the occasional Tori Amos vibe. There is so much in this dense collection.
Her band is great. Especially the drummer, whose restless energy holds this freewheeling, jazzy cacophony together, even when it sounds like it’s falling apart. Beautifully restrained solos populate these thoughtful constructions
and add colour to Lindeman’s dark outlines.
Perhaps you’ll be inspired by fan Geoffrey Betts, who posted this review under The Weather Station’s YouTube video for Tried to Tell You: ‘‘I am 68 – and the last time I looked forward to the release of an album this much was Pink Floyd’s DSOTM [Dark Side of the Moon]. This band are so good I weep in disbelief.’’ Nicely put Geoff, nicely put.
A trio of folk singers with the impeccably close harmonies only family can produce, The Staves are sisters Emily, Jessica and Camilla StaveleyTaylor. After cutting their teeth at open mic nights in their local Watford pub, their big break came when they got a chance to contribute backing vocals to a Tom Jones gospel record.
Their 2014 album If I Was (featuring the perfect pop song Black and White) was good enough to draw the eye of indie icon Bon Iver, who invited them to tour and record with him. His influence helped them rewire their traditional approach to folk into something fluid and fanciful.
On Good Woman, the trio continue to channel comforting, cheerily strummed summer vibes into wispy, easy-to-love songs about Devotion, Sparks and Trying. Their voices slide into one another, shifting subtle semi-tones in effortless unison.
Failure faces up to the F word we all deal with from time to time with worldweary resilience, as a chorus of angelic voices cheer their support. Wholesome and nourishing.