ALBUM REVIEW: The Weather Station Gets Personal on Companion to ‘Ignorance’

There is a common practice for artists — one for them, one for me — that is theoretically meant to keep creativity uninhibited. When last we heard from Tamara Lindeman and her band The Weather Station, she had made one for them. 2021’s critically acclaimed Ignorance, though filled with contemplation of the slow ravaging of our planet, made way for a new sound from the band, one that was bigger, louder, and more instrumental. Simultaneously, Lindeman was writing a collection of ballads, companion pieces to what would make the cut for Ignorance, and ultimately songs she was unsure she wanted to share. Thankfully, now she has.

In true “one for me” fashion, for How Is It That I Should Look at the Stars, Lindeman self-funded the album, got a new band together, and evaded any potential influence from a label (it was released, however, via Fat Possum). The result is as aesthetically far from Ignorance as possible, with wind instruments and piano where driving percussion and guitars once were. These songs, sung in Lindeman’s clear, breathy voice, play like vignettes. The melodies are improvisational, spontaneous in how they rise and fall, and unafraid of pauses, but always guided by Lindeman’s lyrics, like entries from a diary no one was ever meant to read.

“Stars,” from which the album’s title comes, finds her in the desert on New Year’s Eve, pondering the purpose of fireworks, “As though they’re celebrating all another year has cost. Or is it carelessness?” she asks. “Send another star into the sky / Only to watch it die / Fall across the black in a shining arc / I swear to god / This world will break my heart.” Lindeman takes comfort in intimacy with a lover (“Sway” and “Loving You”) and quiet moments alone in nature, watching the colors and textures unfolding around her (“Marsh” and “Ignorance”). Lindeman reminds us why we trust her to help us make sense of a world crumbling around us, searching for bright spots and meaning among the rubble.