Tamara Lindeman wanted the 'Robber' video to 'feel like how 2020 does to me, steeped in ... unease and a threat of distant violence'

"Robber" is the first bit of new music from the Weather Station, the project of Tamara Lindeman, since the band's self-titled 2017 album. "I never believed in the robber," Lindeman sings repeatedly throughout the hypnotic song, which builds slowly with two drum kits, saxophone and more (a seven-piece ensemble in all). 

“I think in my life I’ve been pretty naive, always tried to see the good in everyone (still do), always tried to make do with what is and not think of what can’t be (still do),” Lindeman said in a press release. “But those attitudes are dangerous when applied at a societal level, especially at this moment in time. I think we’re all in denial a bit, about where we are, and what is happening, because it’s easier on some level, easier to try and make do with what’s missing than to see what’s missing. I think it’s hard to believe in the robber, hard to even see the robber; it’s easier to try and make love to or glamorize the robber. It hurts too much otherwise. To put it straight: there are real human people who are literally robbing us and all future generations of everything that matters, right now. But we literally can’t see that as a society, because for one thing we’ve been taught not to value what is taken, and for another because we’ve been taught to glamorize and love the taker. We love to love the taker. We don’t know how to see the victim of the taking.”

In the video for "Robber," which Lindeman directed, the singer wanders the woods where she grew up while wearing a suit made of mirror fragments. “Throughout the video is a thread of denial, of people performing their roles even when nothing seems to make sense, and nothing is quite right, and we are quite literally lost in the woods; which feels like a pretty perfect summation of our year so far,” she said. “From an emotional and mood standpoint, I wanted the video to feel like how 2020 does to me; steeped in a sort of omnipresent unease and a threat of distant violence, even as life goes on, performers perform, dancers dance, food couriers seek addresses. The threat is felt only by some characters, while others are curiously unaffected, seeming not even to notice. I wanted to capture the disorientation of participating in capitalism and performance in general, where it can feel like power and co-option, self actualization and violation, sometimes all at once.”

Watch the video below, courtesy Lindeman's new label, Fat Possum.