From astronomical phenomena to mental health, a new album by singer-songwriter Siri Undlin, who performs under the name Humbird with her band of the same name, taps into a sense of awe, even as it reveals raw vulnerability.
Undlin sings about constellations, sunsets and blood moons, references the poet Mary Oliver, and reflects on political and social contexts of our world. And she offers an unflinching look at her own experience of illness, transforming physical and psychological suffering into grooving beats and catchy melodies.
Humbird will be sharing tunes from “Morning When it Comes” on Nov. 13 at the Fine Line in downtown Minneapolis, in a show featuring opening band Bad Posture Club. It’s the second stop on Humbird’s fall tour, which includes shows in Wisconsin, Illinois and Indiana. The tour is somewhat smaller in scale than Undlin has undertaken in the past, in part because she’s prioritizing her own well being.
The song “12 Month Ringer” highlights a particularly acute episode that prompted Undlin to make some major life changes. This was on New Year’s Eve, between 2023 and 2024. At the time, Undlin was fitting in 100 days of touring within the space of a year.
On New Year’s Eve, Undlin was upstairs at her parents’ house, and she could hear her family celebrating the holiday downstairs.
“They were singing all these New Year’s Eve songs,” Undlin recalled. “Madonna was blasting. It was a full-on party, and they were having so much fun.”
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But Undlin couldn’t share in her family’s happy mood. She was having multiple panic attacks a day and was experiencing waves of nausea. “I was very sick, mentally and physically that month,” she remembered. “I wrote that song because I literally couldn’t do anything else.”
In the chorus of “12 Month Ringer,” Undlin channels a highly self-deprecating voice. “Doin’ my best, badly,” she sings, almost cheerfully. “Gave it my all, sadly.” She was trying to capture someone trying to make themselves feel marginally better, she told me.
The song has an upbeat rhythm, almost like country music. “It was a fun redemption for a very dark moment, which is something really cool you can do with songs,” she said. “You get to take these moments from your life and sculpt them.”
For an album that marks a dark period, Undlin and her collaborators were keen to make themselves smile a bit. “It doesn’t take away from the seriousness of a mental health crisis, but it does kind of add a little levity to it,” she said.
Besides a heavy touring schedule, she was splitting time between La Crosse, Wisconsin, and Minneapolis in 2023.
“I was so ungrounded,” she recalled. She began seeing a therapist and decided to dial back on touring. Rather than splitting time between La Crosse and Minneapolis, she moved to Eau Claire full time.
“When I first left the Twin Cities, I was like, ‘I’m going to do hybrid. I’ll live in both places,’” Undlin remembered. “That didn’t work for me. My family and my bandmates are in Minneapolis, and I go there pretty often, but I’m not trying to be an active member in a day-to-day way in both communities,” she said.
Undlin was already familiar with the Eau Claire music scene, because she had been making records there for about a decade. “I get to collaborate with lots of people that I live down the road from,” she said. “It’s a good place. I think it punches way above its weight as far as the arts go.”
She also enjoys being out in the woods and nature — something that’s apparent in her lyrics. In many songs on the album, Undlin is meditating on nature and the stars.
In “Hey Big Dipper,” she uses the stars as metaphors for living. “The Big Dipper is a very grounding constellation,” she told me. “If I got eyes on that Big Dipper, I know which way is north, and I can find other things from that constellation.”
In “Daughter of Empire,” Undlin references poet Mary Oliver, inserting a phrase from the poet’s “The Summer Day” into her own lyric: “Sun sets like a dull knife / On my wild and precious life,” Undlin sings in the third verse, contrasting the demands of economic survival and the desire to live more consciously, including a sense of responsibility toward the environment.
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Undlin calls her songs secular hymns, and notes her work isn’t tied to any particular dogma.
“Even though I left the church a long time ago, I do still witness and appreciate the way that music can inspire emotive experiences in the performers or in the audience that feel ineffable or transcendent,” she said.
A self-described PK (Preacher’s Kid), Undlin remains close to her family, even though she moved away from Christianity in early adulthood. “My family is pretty chill and easy to talk with, and always game to discuss spirituality and how we interact with the world and the mystery,” she said.
In her late teens, Undlin learned the word agnostic, and in the title track, “Morning When it Comes,” she sings about her agnosticism directly. “I left the pew / But I still pray,” she sings. “I bow my head and my voice to say / Here’s the morning when it comes.”
Later in the song, Undlin lists various living creatures, from the “winged things,” to the “claws and the burs,” wishing “Glory be,” to each of them.
Undlin said she often sings that song to herself, adding to the list. “I don’t think that songs are finished when they’re recorded,” she said. “You can always keep working on them.”
Usually when she’s singing to herself, she plays without a guitar. “I’m always humming and messing around in my head while I’m moving around. You could argue that it’s compulsive,” she said.
She keeps a notebook with her, too, to jot down words that sound cool together. Then, when she gets together with her bandmates, the group adopts a playful dynamic, even when they’re not technically rehearsing or intentionally making music.
“I feel like music is floating around, and anyone can tap into it at any point,” Undlin said. “It kind of depends on your preferences and your willingness to sound silly because most things sound silly at the beginning.”
Humbird performs at 8 p.m. on Friday, Nov. 13, at the Fine Line, 318 1st Avenue N., Mpls. ($28.37). More information here.
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Source: www.minnpost.com
