Humanhood

"Look at this mess," the Weather Stations Tamara Lindeman sings on Humanhood. Though shes always excelled at finding and grappling with messes big and small, her meditations on "climate grief" on 2021s Ignorance brought her widespread acclaim -- and pressures that contributed to a period of chronic depersonalization. The groups seventh album traces Lindemans path back to the "body thats beneath all of this" with the thoughtful grace expected of the Weather Station, albeit in new forms. Where Ignorance framed climate changes devastation with decadently polished sonics, Humanhood depicts the pain and pleasure of reconnecting with reality and the overwhelm of dissociation with spontaneity and the occasional rough edge. Much of the record grew from the Weather Stations improvisations, which bring the album to fluttering life on "Descent." From that song onward, the feeling of being in the room with Lindeman and the rest of the band heightens Humanhoods thrilling physicality. On "Neon Signs," swirling flutes and pianos threaten to swallow her while she ponders "a world without trust." "Mirror"s knife-edged percussion and needling guitars telegraph the dangers of an emotional environment that is every bit as toxic as the ones Lindeman chronicled on Ignorance. Later, saxophone and banjo radiate midsummer heat as she plunges into the water (and back into "this personal life") on the title track. One of the albums most evocative textures is Lindemans own voice, which sounds lighter -- and sometimes wearier -- than it has in the past, with her airy tones blurring into the flutes on "Window"s breathless anticipation. Underpinning Humanhoods volatility is the Weather Stations skillful use of tension and release. For every dense and challenging song, theres a soft and welcoming one, and the luminous ballads are as powerful as the hectic tracks. The tangible relief "Body Moves" delivers midway through the album is all the more moving when it returns on "Sewing," where Lindeman stitches together her messy emotions -- "pride and shame/beauty and guilt" -- into a handmade and heartfelt whole that closes the record. However, it doesnt provide closure. Humanhood finds Lindeman in the middle of the mysterious, sacred process of returning to herself, and while the album may not offer many answers, its rare honesty, eloquence, and compassion make it another triumph for the Weather Station. ~ Heather Phares