Blogs
Thu Aug 28, 11:50 AM
Thu Aug 28, 11:04 AM
Thu Aug 28, 10:36 AM
Wed Aug 27, 3:32 PM
Thu Aug 28, 10:30 AM
Thu Aug 28, 9:04 AM
Thu Aug 28, 6:29 AM
Wed Aug 27, 6:26 AM
Recent Articles
Recent Articles by Nancy Einhart
Tanglewood Numbers (Drag City)
Wednesday, March 26, at the Replay Lounge.
The Grace EPs (Sony Legacy)
Friday, February 28, at the Fahrenheit Gallery, 1717 W. 9th Street.
Free to Do What? (Mint)
No related articles found
National Features >
Houston Press
A flight attendant's smackdown with the wife of mega-preacher Joel Osteen inspires a whole new set of commandments.
By Rich Connelly
City Pages
Today Denver, tomorrow the Twin Cities.
By Matt Snyders and Bradley Campbell
Village Voice
The provocateur who brought you "Piss Christ" pinches off a new concept.
By Lynn Yaeger
Low
Friday, February 28, at the Fahrenheit Gallery, 1717 W. 9th Street.
Published on February 27, 2003
Since its inception in 1994, Low has fashioned sandman-summoning songs that beg for a joint and a comfy chair. Listeners who succumb to slumber, though, will most likely have twitchy nightmares; Low spikes its sleeping pills with an emotionally jarring vibe, stretching well-crafted pop songs to the breaking point. For its sixth album, Trust, Low -- Zak Sally on bass and keyboards and married Mormons Mimi Parker and Alan Sparhawk on drums and guitar, respectively -- maintains much of its chilly beauty but ups the tempo on several songs. Trust contains all the sonic details of the Duluth, Minnesota, group's past efforts: perfectly blended vocals from Sparhawk and Parker, calm and collected melodies, and creative instrumentation such as bells and shattered glass. The threesome also branches out, delivering downright energetic songs such as "Snowstorm," which sounds like Joy Division gone Christmas caroling. Even when Low is happy, though, danger lurks close, as evidenced by the telling line Sometimes I could just choke myself with laughter. Given the absence of mirth in Low's material, spectators need not fear fatal giggling spells. They could, however, lose themselves completely in their somnolent surroundings, enraptured by the sparse instrumentation and long-sustained notes of these dense, disquieting lullabies.