We have officially reached what is (in my opinion), the best time of the year - peak tour season. There's a bounty, no bevy, no plethora.... whatever - there are all sorts of fantastic touring acts rolling through town each and every night, inviting perpetual (pseudo) socialization (because they're concerts, and if you actually talk at length during a show, as an audience member, you're the worst) in the dark dingy depths of rock clubs at a moment's notice. Granted, this is coming from someone who with each coming year, finds themselves creeping closer and closer to vehement distaste for festival season, which would presumably serve as the foil to tour season.
Rather than dive head first into a diatribe railing against festivals and championing club shows, along with any other general opining, we'll stick to the general delight that coincides with a band as exceptional as The Weather Station spending an intimate evening in Nashville. In short, The Weather Station is a personal favorite - I first saw Tamara Lindeman perform solo at The High Watt way back in 2012, when she opened for Bahamas. Needless to say, in the six years since, both Bahamas and Tamara (The Weather Station) have moved onto higher volume venues, and respective headlining shows. While Bahamas' is roughly a month or so out, The Weather Station's headlining Nashville show is what we're ruminating in borderline excess about today.
The Weather Station is (again, in my opinion) one of the best folk acts touring the world today. In this decade alone, Tamara Lindeman and company have put out what are three of the best folk albums of the decade. All of It Was Mine, Loyalty, and The Weather Station are supreme showcases of an astute observationist who blends pastoral and confessional with the greatest of ease. There's an offertory association with many of Tamara's lyrics, as if they're reverentially submitted with no expectation other than to be consumed by "the void."
Now, I understand that last couplet was incredibly vague and borderline nonsensical (that's online writing for you!), but it serves as further representation of just how distinctly moving The Weather Station's music can be - to the point of gleeful nonsense. It's music to steep oneself in, until the lavender breath of Lindeman has calmed the listener, audience, whoever to a moment of emotional presence. Combine that with the unique erudition of The Weather Station's tonal compositions, and it translates into a superb live show.
Speaking of erudition, the crowd for this particular show was arguably the best representation of Nashville's literati that one could find. There was plenty of twee and more than a few casual glasses of presumed red wine Chianti. Further substantiating the unmistakably cerebral air of the crowd, most members of The Weather Station arrived to their line check with books in hand. Always a pleasant thing to see for this self-ascribed bibliophile.
As for the show itself - we have experienced a fair bit of rambli-ness this go round, haven't we - it was truly outstanding. A first-rate mix of songs from The Weather Station all the way back to The Line (2009). Tamara and her cohorts wasted no time running through tunes, shared a story of nail salon bemusement, and eventually took requests from the crowd. All in all a truly polished set. Much like the songs of The Weather Station, their live set is measured and no moment is wasted.