Low

Damien Jurado

Troubadour - March 3, 2006

Live Review by Adam McKibbin

After about a dozen years as a band, it’s lately become a brave new world for Low, former purveyors of a genre humorously known as “slowcore.”  This new beginning was driven home by a woman in front of the Troubadour stage on March 3rd; as the band’s techs finished setting up equipment for the headline act, the woman nervously put in her earplugs.

Sure, sure, it’s probably never a bad idea for any show involving amplification in close quarters, but still…earplugs for Low?  It still seemed incongruous, even though it’s been some time now since the band, birthed as a reaction against the grunge surge, made its jump to grunge mama label Sub Pop and recorded The Great Destroyer with producer Dave Fridmann.

And yet—not a bad idea.  Upon striding onstage, Alan Sparhawk tore right into some juicy guitar squalor, singing ominously about beautiful people, and making it clear that The Great Destroyer would dominate the night’s proceedings (“Monkey,” “Pissing,” and “Silver Rider” were all pivotal points in the setlist).  Low have been through a period of drama that included the departure of longtime bassist Zak Sally, and the new lineup - Matt Livingston joining married couple Sparhawk and percussionist Mimi Parker - has a curious and satisfying dynamic:  the confidence of a veteran band that has been to its breaking point and back (and retained their diehard audience), mixed with the we’ll-show-you eagerness of a menacing young upstart.

Noise is great, but there was a tendency to over-rely on lingering feedback instead of the monster riffs that Sparhawk peppered through the songs.  In addition to the restrained, vulnerable vocal that works so well when complimented by Parker (who was reliably majestic during this show), Sparhawk is also a pretty commanding rock lead.  The only misstep was an oddly affected, elastic vocal on “Whore.”

Genre versatility is nothing new for Low—in addition to turning the volume up even pre-Great Destroyer, Sparhawk and Parker have also done wonderful one-offs like “Just Really Wanna See You” with Shudder to Think.  At the Troubadour, though, their set never quite found that full range, tending to overlook the moments of good humor and, more significantly, chilling grace.  Even without their full arsenal, though, they left a lingering, indelible impression—they’re a one-of-a-kind type band, and it will be interesting to see where they head next.

Opener Damien Jurado has explored some of the same junctions between quiet menace, simple grace, and all-out rock.  His set here was fairly straight-ahead acoustic, with some surprise electronic flourishes.  Early on, Jurado seemed to be going through the motions a bit, but he settled in and closed magnificently, even stealing some thunder from the headliner.  Jurado’s songs move from the high ground of spiritual thanksgiving to the low ground of adulterous affairs in motel rooms—and, as the clincher, fully recognize the dirt in the former and the beauty in the latter.

Jurado has acknowledged in the past that touring isn’t exactly his favorite activity in the world—and that impression came across at times, especially earlier on—but when he gets wrapped up into the world of his songs, he seems like…well, maybe not that he enjoys it as much as he needs it.  Atypically, he best draws in the audience when he seems to be at his most inward.  When it comes time to wrestle your own demons, there aren’t many better soundtracks.