Hg9 — The Weather Station
ARCHIVE - Issue 9 | Radical Softness is a Boundless Form of Resistance
WORDS BY SHERENE ALMJAWER
ILLUSTRATION BY ELLA MAZUR
Since forming in 2006, the members of The Weather Station — a four-piece Canadian folk band — have changed and lead singer Tamara Lindeman has evolved. In the band’s 16-year career, they’ve released six studio albums, the most recent being Ignorance (2021) and How Is It That I Should Look at the Stars (2022).
Lindeman, who wrote and produced all the songs on Ignorance, pulls inspiration from both her introspective musical style and the social atmosphere of the world at the time of its creation. While Ignorance sweeps listeners through thoughts on advocacy and climate, How Is It That I Should Look at the Stars looks through a more personal perspective, and was recorded live with Toronto-based jazz musicians. Lindeman joins Cannopy Magazine to discuss the latest album, the Toronto music scene and venues that inspired it, and how climate activism found her.
CAN | This latest album has been described as your softest yet, in a time where there’s such an incentive against softness. What’s your argument for staying mellow?
TL ── I have a shirt that says, “Radical softness is a boundless form of resistance,” and I never buy shirts that say things, but I had to buy it because I needed to wear it for myself. There’s a lot of fear in the world, and fear tends to manifest as anger and rigid thinking and, right now, we’re all afraid.
People are complicated and when you’re dealing with complicated stuff, like climate change, asking people to imagine the world slightly differently is near impossible. And so, I think of all the times in my life when I felt that being gentle allowed me into spaces that maybe wouldn’t have if I was too intense. It’s hard because I can be a little malleable as a human — that’s my weakness — but I also like to think of it as a strength. It’s all of these traditionally feminine qualities that I think have a lot to say to the world.
We still prioritize strength and traditionally masculine qualities and yet, in a world that is quickly changing, where we have to manage our pain and fear more than anything, I think some conventionally feminine qualities of care and softness are what’s needed.
CAN | Looking at all the local artists that joined you on this album, why is it important to you to give other Toronto artists a platform?
TL ── There’s a side of this record I haven’t communicated yet: it’s an homage to a type of Toronto music that is really centered at the Tranzac music venue. I never felt like I was fully part of this scene because I didn’t go to jazz school like everyone else, but I’m an admirer of this music; it’s some of my favorite music. It’s important to me because it feels uniquely Toronto. This side of Toronto is part of the reason I stay in this music community. This music and the Tranzac are a whole other side to the city.
I intended this record as a loving nod to aspects of that music scene, and having some of those musicians on the album was part of it. By having a bit more of an audience across the world, I can hype up artists from here and talk about this style of music. That was all a part of my intention. Obviously, the record is very me, but I wanted to make sure that people knew who the musicians on it were.
CAN | Which artists are currently inspiring you?
TL ── Sometimes I go through phases where I don’t listen to a lot of music – I’ll listen to a lot of podcasts instead and vice versa – but the record I often bring up is Eau De Bonjourno by Bernice. It’s a new record that I’ve been listening to a lot. I also got into this Detroit-based artist, Theo Parrish, who does really interesting things with sound. I’ve definitely been inspired by listening to him. I feel like I’m low on new music right now, but that’s okay. It always comes in waves.