Low
Whelan's, Dublin, 18.11.2000

Contrast is a beautiful thing. Not two miles away are 3,500 loved up clubbers frothing at the mouth in anticipation of Underworld's songs of mind-blowing energy. Here all is calm. Tonight is the final leg of Low's British, and Irish tour but Alan Sparhawk and Mimi Parker, Duluth, Minnesota's most rock n' roll couple, are not about to deny it's audience their parentally affectionate musical care despite self-proclaimed home sickness.

Since their 1993 inception Low have carved themselves a dedicated following through flawless silken touches of malady on such offerings as Soon which encapsulates their distinctive sound. The guitar melody and brush-percussion merely serving a platform for what can only be described as vocally harmonious perfection. Mimi's honey-coated voice floats Weight of Water across the stage melting two hundred and fifty hearts in minutes. The saw and bow provides additional layers of haunting sound courtesy of Joss from Joan of Arse in intermittent flows.

What today's ever-increasing claustrophobic gaggle of post rockers exude with angst ridden facial expressions, Low embellish with effortless style and without a degree of pretentiousness. Not to be typecast with the former, they show a multidimensional catalogue in rock favourite Dinosaur Act, and humour in Sparhawk's hilarious autobiographical narration of the demerits of head-lice before leaving the stage to the loving applause of their audience.

It had already been announced from stage that servings would be mainly from their most recent album, whose yardstick would be firmly placed in the silence that has gripped the audience tonight. But from the taste of their diverse offerings, a delve into the Low back catalogue would come highly recommended.

The sound of Low is the sound just above that of silence. Sparhawk and Parker brought their baby on tour with them but all of their energy has not been diluted tonight instead, they have wrapped Whelan's in swaddling clothes and sung lullabies to it.

Copyright © 2001 Colm Downes