That I mention Jack and Meg White's
influential duo here is not by accident. Certainly, most of the slow, gentle and angst-ridden songs of Low
doesn't sound anything even remotely close to the sped-up,
electronica-and-distortion-washed rock of the 'Stripes (although even a direct
comparison of the music wouldn't be totally off base in songs such as “Cold,
cold night”). But I find something in these two bands' attitude that is
essentially the same. It is the achievement of a monumental sound with
minimalist orchestration.
Minimalism in this case is not merely an
eloquent way of saying simplicity: with the combination of a handful of weird
noise samples, a soft drum pattern, an apologetic bassline and heart-breakingly
painful vocals, Low creates a rich, massive and at the same time fragile flow
of sounds, the slowness of which accentuates the importance of the small
details.
“Drums and Guns,” the eighth album of the band is probably not the record you want to
listen to before a night out. It is not easy listening – merely by its
slowness, it demands your full attention –, but you might just find yourself
captivated by its depth.