Spanning a career most modern bands could only shake their drain pipe jeans in jealousy at, Low have drifted quietly yet majestically in the musical shadows for near enough twenty years. Dedicated to their craft they never once flirted with any notion of commercial appeal. Yet they make music that is so involved with the human heart beat, so deeply connected to inner emotions on an immediate level, that I sometimes want to stamp “Insane” on the world’s collective hand that Low aren’t loved by everyone. To quote Mogwai: “In a perfect world everyones favourite band would be Low.” Ok, you get the picture.
Nine records in they have lost none of that intangible ornate sound that makes them so unique. Yet on ‘C’Mon’ they seem geared towards an unexpected jump into the realms of mass consciousness. Consciously or not. This album is a faint yet knowing ask, prodding you to listen on in. Opening with a lullaby of colourful joy in Try To Sleep, we see why. Leaving behind the experimentation and fraught tension of the last couple of records they dived into another part of themselves, let the sun in themselves shine through.
Recorded in a church back in their homeland of Minnesota, where they recorded their dark marvel ‘Trust’ (2002), ‘C’mon’ dispenses with indie credentials by lending co-production duties to Matt Beckley (Katy Perry, Delta Goodrem, Avril Lavigne). The dense dramatics have given way and songs like the wonderfully embracing You See Everything, and the pained Especially Me, both with Mimi on vocals, show this record isn’t about saturated sounds and thick lush textures. Rather, this is Low’s songwriting at it’s most naked. The sullen, almost acidic romance of $20 show Sparhawke’s vocal brilliance never yields - not that Low fans need reassuring of that. Parker and Sparhawke are easily one of the most emotive vocal pairs around. There are not many who come close to this pair’s level of intimate grace.
Approaching this record free of dramatics, without diving into safety amongst their guitar layered walls of sound may be risky, but has certainly revealed a sense of freedom for the band. Majesty/Magic has an understated bellow that would have been pushed into the stratosphere on past records, however it remains more confidently reserved here, and rightly so. Nothing But Heart is the real treat: a pounding eight minutes of soulful bliss, vocally reaching the skies and building to a euphoric end before the album closes with the sublime and mellow Something Turning Over. This might well be Low’s most fully rounded collection of songs for a while; not afraid to explore new avenues, I don’t expect they will ever let us down.