ALBUM REVIEW: On ‘Humanhood’ Tamara Lindeman (The Weather Station) Explores the Messiness of Living
Maeri Ferguson
Posted On January 15, 2025
Tamara Lindeman makes challenging music. It’s not meant to bring comfort, but somehow always does it anyway, just by ferrying to the surface the innermost thoughts that plague so many. The Weather Station, Lindeman’s recording outfit, has centered climate grief, coming of age anxiety, and an increasingly disconnected world, among other heavy themes across a handful of records that also showcase an artist deeply in touch with herself. The latest is Humanhood, a cacophonous plunge into the body as a processing plant for pain, joy, discomfort, sickness, and memory. Like the best of The Weather Station, it is a fully-engrossing work that keeps you clasped tightly to it until the very last note.
Humanhood’s experimental jazz accompaniments were recorded in mostly improvised sessions. Bursts of piano, horns, synth, and flute, which feel as though they’re following their own whims, may be the only sonic landscape that can match the same wondrous unpredictability of Lindeman’s clear-throated flutter.
These songs are moving for this reason. They rise and fall and dip and bend the way moods ebb and change. Humanhood can be overwhelming in this way, like a wave of emotion that can strike without warning, and then leave a person reeling. It uncloaks the messiness of being in a body, one that sweats and cries and shivers and bleeds.
On its frenetic title track, Lindeman sings, “Carrying this humanhood, it looked like a burden, like a lack of decision, too entangled a vision, too mangled a living, sacred though, precious.” Paranoia courses through “Neon Signs” like the steady percussion that moves it forward at an increasing clip. Amid the breathy urgency of “Ribbon” are reminders of one’s humanity—the normalcy of pain, the instinct to protect, the need to feel familiar sensations.
At its core, Humanhood is about reconnecting to the body as a way to come back down to earth. Through those live sessions and a handful of overdubs, a large band including the likes of James Elkington, Sam Amidon, Philippe Melanson, and Ben Whiteley give it its beating heart and pumping veins. Lindeman adds its oxygen with her train-of-thought lyrics that often sound as improvised or abstract as the instrumentals that back them.
The Weather Station’s Humanhood is out via Fat Possum on Jan. 17.
