C'mon
Minnesota’s Low are one of the finest groups to navigate their way into the 21st century. Their slo-core roots, where every note took a lifetime to resolve into the next, have been spiked and expanded to allow for additional colors and approaches. Their ninth album, *C’mon*, was co-produced and mixed by Matt Beckley, whose name has appeared on recordings by Avril Lavigne and Katy Perry. Beckley brings brightness and dares Alan Sparhawk to bring his vocals to the front of the mix. “Witches” is phenomenal. The bass guitar is deep and sturdy. The guitars are shiny and metallic as they jangle into space. And Sparhawk sings with a newfound conviction. Additional musicians, including Wilco’s Nels Cline and violinist Caitlin Moe, create a plusher sound for tracks such as “Done” and the sweetly harmonic “Try to Sleep.” The naked ache of “Nothing But Heart” is reminiscent of the Byrds’ Gene Clark’s solo work. “Something’s Turning Over” throws over slo-core for a Mamas and Papas-type pop vocal ensemble piece. The album is a new career highpoint.
C’mon is the shortest title of any Low album, which seems fitting, as it also ranks among the most succinct and straightforward entries in their variegated discography. Singer-guitarist Alan Sparhawk has even perfected the “elevator pitch” for C’mon: “Recorded in an old church in Duluth, MN and mixed in an apartment in Hollywood, CA.” But that brief synopsis hides universes. Comprised of new material written on and off the road, the ten-song set was recorded in a former Catholic church, aka Sacred Heart Studio (where the band previously crafted 2002’s Trust) and co-produced and mixed by Matt Beckley. The band took full advantage of Sacred Heart’s high, vaulted ceilings, natural reverb, and audible affinity for organ sounds and group singing. The thunder-crack percussion that peppers the final minute of the slowly unfolding “Majesty/Magic” is just one example of this dynamic in action. With its jangly guitars and sweet vocal harmonies, opener “Try to Sleep” sets the album’s tone: Warmer, fuller and more introspective. Whereas 2007’s Drums and Guns railed against the war in Iraq, C’mon feels like a plea for humanity, decency and common sense in a world gone mad. Sparhawk concurs. “With the last couple of records, we were grappling with something outside of ourselves. This one feels more like, ‘Well, forget that. I’m looking in your eyes right now, and we need to figure out how to get through the next moment, together, as human beings.’” Without curtailing their artistry one iota, the trio has made one of its most accessible, affecting albums to date. And while the origins of C’mon may lie in a church in Minnesota, Beckley’s apartment in CA and the hearts of the modest individuals who created it, the resulting music has the capacity to resonate deeply with audiences everywhere.
The slowcore band's ninth album comes off like a tour of the various twists and turns in direction it's taken over the years.
Low can’t decide whether to stay in its comfort zone or sneak out of it on C’mon. Not as stylistically risky as 2007’s Drums And Guns, C’mon goes through the paces of Low’s familiar sound on songs like “Especially Me,” which waltzes along on Mimi Parker’s characteristically anxious vocal, and “$20,” a pretty ballad…
No one has ever listened to Low expecting boundless good cheer, but the dour beauty of their best work -- Secret Name, Things We Lost in the Fire, and Trust -- made something deeply rewarding out of the fragile sorrow of their spare melodies and Alan Sparhawk and Mimi Parker's voices.
There’s an angelic jangle about Low’s ‘Christmas’ EP which makes it one of those festive records you’re tempted to play all year round.
Hymn-like melodies and inner turmoil – <strong>Betty Clarke</strong> welcomes the return of Low