The Weather Station – How Is It That I Should Look At The Stars

Tamara Lindeman’s follow-up to Ignorance can be enjoyed with or without the contextual groundwork of its sister album, for it contains fantastic songs

Great albums – truly great albums – often make such an impact on listeners because they are singular, self-contained and entirely unique. Rarely (we’re talking once in a generation here, folks) do artists attempt to follow up truly great albums with ‘companion pieces’, sister albums, or records that were made in the same burst of unbridled creativity as the first. Perhaps your mind might be drawn to Beach House‘s Depression Cherry and Thank Your Lucky Stars within the space of a few months. Or perhaps you’re thinking of Big Thief, who put out U.F.O.F. and Two Hands in the same calendar year. 

Now, Tamara Lindeman – The Weather Station to her parents – has followed up her magnum opus, Ignorance, with a second complete album – How Is It That I Should Look At The Stars: “When I wrote Ignorance, it was a time of intense creativity, and I wrote more songs than I ever had in my life. The songs destined to be on  the  album were clear from the beginning, but as I continued down my writing path, songs kept appearing that had no place on the album I envisioned… I began to envision How Is It That I Should Look At The Stars, a quiet, strange album of ballads. I imagined it not as a follow-up to Ignorance, but rather as a companion piece; the moon to its sun.’ 

Here we are, one year after Ignorance, with this fantastic selection of songs, and the truth is that Lindeman is on to something – you don’t actually have to have heard, or even enjoyed Ignorance to fully embrace the seductive power of …Stars. As a pair, they are vastly different. Where the first is slick, polished and highly produced (to its credit), the sister album is warm, intense and intimate. In the band Lindeman is supported Christine Bougie on guitar and lap steel, Karen Ng on saxophone and clarinet, Ben Whiteley on upright bass, Ryan Driver on piano, flute, and vocals, and Tania Gill on Wurlitzer, Rhodes, and pianet. 

Endless Time, the emotional heart of the album, sums up exactly why this release works. The softness, the delicate and gossamer-fine beauty, the stunning, yearning nostalgia – it’s all there and hits you right in the feels. The smoky, unrestrained beauty is often reminiscent of Joni Mitchell, especially with the opener Marsh and closing pair of Sleight Of Hand and Loving You. If you’ve been following Lindeman’s career to date, this isn’t especially surprising. 

…Stars is simply a wonderful work by a wonderful artist, which can be enjoyed with or without the contextual groundwork of its sister album. Enjoy liberally and often.