If you were to hold The Weather Station's early material up against this, the Canadian band's fifth full-length album, the differences and disparities are plain to see. The real changes, however, lie within the folds and between the hairline cracks of these songs. It's true that Tamara Lindeman and her band have moved away from the rootsy folk that propelled their first few records, this time into a more groove-based, full-bodied sound, noted touchpoints such as Roxy Music, Talk Talk and Fleetwood Mac easy to hear.
At face value, Ignorance seems like a record strewn with self-doubt, heartache, frustration and anxiety. Loss and Separated drip with a sense of disquiet despite their upbeat soundtracks. It is undoubtedly personal, with many references to the natural world such as the “blood red” sun on Atlantic, or the “crumpled petals and misshapen heads of reeds and rushes” on Trust; this is a record as much about our relationship with the planet as with other humans.
The music is less weighty. The twitchy groove of Robber benefits hugely from the jazz saxophonist and flautist that add a sense of unpredictability. The 1980s synth-pop of Tried to Tell You and the pacy Parking Lot are superb, with orchestration and melody liberally strewn throughout the tracklist.
An intimate album that takes more than one listen to fully attune to, but the music remains a joy.
