At Work: The Weather Station

Mike Ayers on March 9, 2021
At Work: The Weather Station

Tamara Lindeman is well aware that the most profound sonic shifts are often the ones that take time; when you look back on your body of work you trace an evolution, and watch your style morph slowly, but organically. At least that’s the approach that the Toronto-based musician, who records and performs as The Weather Station, has taken since her folk-tinged debut, 2009’s The Line. And, for her fifth album Ignorance, Lindeman aimed to create a whole new sonic palette, starting first by writing on keyboards instead of the guitar. 

“I was drawn more to these emotional, anthemic sounds,” she says while calling from her home in Hogtown. “It was a beautiful capsule to put these Technicolor emotions into. The goal of pop music is to express emotions and longing and desire.”

Lindeman’s last album, 2017’s self-titled effort, was born out of a desire to write a more “masculine” guitar album—for Ignorance, she drew inspiration from adventurous pop acts like Fleetwood Mac and Roxy Music. On songs such as “Wear” and “Parking Lot,” she certainly channels the ‘80s, but adds textures such as strings or, in the case of the opening number “Robber,” fluttering, jazzy saxophones. Other more subtle moments nod to the likes of Tori Amos and Kate Bush.  

Lindeman grew up in Shelburne, Ontario, about 75 miles north of Toronto, learning to sing in youth choir. She turned to acting in her teens, landing some choice roles on a few Canadian teen TV shows, but eventually shifted to writing and recording in her 20s. Over the years, Lindeman’s gained more of a following and says the constant need to learn different songwriting methods has driven her to experiment with her sound more, without any real concern about letting go of the past.

“I understand what I’m doing more,” she says. “Each album has had a unique sonic palette because that’s needed in order to find the emotional thrust.” 

That emotional thrust rears its head on Ignorance’s very stark song titles—blunt declarations of humanity like “Trust,” “Heart,” “Loss” and “Separated.” Upon a closer look, Lindeman says, and it’s all part of a bigger conversation about “ignorance,” a notion she explores throughout her latest LP. 

“[The] title is giving the audience a little key to unlocking the work,” she admits. “This idea of ‘ignorance’ was a hidden, subtextual theme within the songs. Ignorance is this strange human tendency to destroy something before we know it.”