By Naomi Hofferber
For a three-piece band to keep awake — let alone rock out — a theater of people at 11 at night, Low completed an amazing feat.
Low, a slowcore indie band hailing from Duluth, Minnesota, played the Englert Theater late on the night of Nov. 4 as a part of the Witching Hour Festival.
The band had a simple and clean presence, its members clad in all black on a stage that was empty save for a few colored lights and a bit of fog. The image presented was simply one of a band and its music, which in the latest hours of night was not an unwelcome one.
Despite the elegance and size of the Englert, the smaller crowd and relaxed attitude of the band gave the atmosphere a casual and intimate feel. People held quiet conversation in the back, couples shared moments as the band played on.
The sound was thoughtful and multifaceted.
The beat of the drum, consistent and resonating, was the heartbeat to every song. It was the grounding aspect as vocals ranged from soft to raw, high to heavy, ethereal to human. At times it got grungy and deep, rich with the sound of guitars garbled hard and low as front man Alan Sparhawk strummed passionately, moving to the music.
Mimi Parker, the drummer of the band, provided vocals that explored a range of femininity — from tender and almost haunting vocalizations reminiscent of the Cranberries to stronger and soulful sounds. Her voice combined with Sparhawk’s led to a beautiful harmony that was both raw and delicate.
A lot of the power came from the soul-tugging bass of Steve Garrington. The bass left nothing to be desired, filling the theater and the crowd’s attentive ears with a deep and powerful sound.
Low specializes in a particularly infectious brand of indie, a combination of simple sounds, which, in their juxtaposition alongside one another, create a complex web of melody.
While the audience members could tune out and let the music carry them, the band’s lyrics demanded to be analyzed. At one point, the group performed “Plastic Cup,” which contains the lyrics:
“And now they make you piss into a plastic cup
And give it up
The cup will probably be here long after we’re gone
What’s wrong
They’ll probably dig it up a thousand years from now”
Low rolled from one song to the next with complete ease, never stopping to chat or interrupt the effect of the experience.
The only time Sparhawk even addressed the crowd other than at the end of the performance came when Low dedicated a song to the punk-rock Russian band Pussy Riot, whose members are known for speaking out against an oppressive Russian government.
Overall, the experience was powerful, pleasant, and, most importantly, genuine. The band never hyped up the crowd, never felt gimmicky or full of fanfare. It was that authenticity that provided a moving and powerful experience that ran late into the early hours of morning.
