With spring finally blasting sunshine in full force, it seems like an odd time to get into the deep blissful sulk that an album like The Line can inspire, but Tamara Lindeman's performances connect with such an immediate sense of intimacy that you cannot help but be surrounded in her songs. Although The Weather Station's first full-length release is comprised of the five songs from 2007's East EP (albeit in more finely-tuned form) plus six newer tunes, it is by no means a padded revamp, but rather a continuation of the same themes. Dark banjos, bowed strings and and the ambient rustling of wooden objects dominate the rural soundscape, and immediately betray the music's origins in Lindeman's self-recordings. Although augmented by friends and bandmates, these recordings remain personal, with Lindeman's voice sinking into the arrangements as if her words alone cannot express the whole of each song.