Description

1 LP – Graphite Ecomix Vinyl, Canadian Exclusive Pressing 

It takes only 10 seconds for Tamara Lindeman to pull us to the floor on Humanhood , the most arresting album she has ever made as The Weather Station. “I’ve gotten used to feeling like I’m crazy—or just lazy,” she sings at the start of “Neon Signs,” her voice at once a soft whisper to a confidant and a full-throated confession to a crowd. “Why can’t I get off this floor? Think straight anymore?”

If you don’t know this feeling, consider yourself blessed. It seems these days like our true modern malaise, that unbound sense of not knowing how or what it is we’re supposed to contribute to this fractious world, or if we even have the energy to try. That disoriented feeling is the emotional tether of Humanhood , written during one of the most difficult periods of Lindeman’s life and rendered with a rock band with improvisational chops just as she began to recover by reckoning with a complicated truth: Sometimes, life simply tries to dismantle us, and we must accept that in order to survive.

Much of Humanhood is a riveting and real document of what it means to be lost, to be hamstrung by confusion, unease, and grief for a period so long you begin to wonder if there is an end. For Lindeman, the hardest part might have been accepting that deeply personal suffering happens, that it is entirely human to feel as if you’re detached from yourself, from your world, from your humanhood.