Drums + Guns

Low

Drums + Guns

 

Known for years as one of the leading bands of the "slowcore" movement, Duluth, Minnesota's Low have long been making dreamy, often sparse, music for bedheads. Not anymore, and, frankly, good for them. After signing with Sub Pop Records in 2005, Low released The Great Destroyer, an album that saw the band bulking up their sound to, dare I say it, Flaming Lips-like proportions. The results were mixed, as they left part of their minimalist charm behind in favor of a more produced, ambitious sound that often felt painfully transitional. 

Now only two years later, Alan Sparhawk (vocals, guitar), Mimi Parker (drums, vocals) and Zak Sally (bass) seem to have it all figured out. With their 8th official studio release, Drums and Guns, Low have stewed up a masterpiece of minimalist progressive rock. Yes, a masterpiece. Yes, progressive rock. And, yes, minimalist. They've been good before – most notably on Things We Lost In the Fire and Trust – but here they arrive (for the first time in their career) fully baked. And unlike the stellar-enough The Great Destroyer, which was cluttered with the new resources producer Dave Fridmann (Flaming Lips) brought with him, Drums and Guns is pleasantly thick and lush, though in a very economical, non-pretentious way.

 

The theme here, cryptically, is the war in Iraq, though the writing – which is thankfully mature – is not specific enough to ever make the material seem dated. While the lyrics, sung in Low's signature boy/girl/boy style, are good, the focus here is on atmosphere. Subtle yet sprawling, simple yet inventive, Low have finally found a sound to run with. A sound that feels natural for them. A sound that makes flickering drum machines and countless layers of samples and synths somehow sound both dark and beautiful.

 

It's a bit strange for a band to hit their stride after already coming in and out of vogue in the fickle world of music media, but Low have managed just that. And they've done it with an album that mixes all the memorable elements of their past work with a new, minimally epic approach. Play this one front-to-back nine times, candle your ears, listen to Radiohead's Kid A a couple of times and go to bed. You'll be fine in the morning, though you'll probably be reaching for Drums and Guns before you can get the crust out of your eyes and the Kid A out of your nightmares.    9.5/10

Written by G. William Locke