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Rating: Amidst the cold walls of the Rolling Stone, the first surprise is the pleasant discovery of Kid Dakota.
Two young musicians from Duluth, Minnesota (like the headliners Low). Guitar-vocal and drums.
I can't quite define their music. Simple and moving, spacious and clear, yet irregular. The voice is very beautiful and varied, somewhere between Yorke, Stipe, and Alan Sparhawk of Low himself, who joins them on stage for the last few songs along with his bassist, Zak Sally.
Next come the Doves. I hope their fans won't take offense, but I don't think too many words should be wasted. Their melodies are nice, but these five English guys pursue them without a shred of personality, ending up reminding us - depending on the song - first of Coldplay (identical!), then the Smiths (identical!), then the Strokes (identical!). When they reach U2, one gets tired. In short, melodic yes, but straightforward, ordinary, mediocre. The history of music will quickly forget them.
The same cannot be said for the Low.
The three from Duluth have already written history, and I suspect they still have the pen in hand.
Listening to the new "The Great Destroyer," I wondered why they had (partially) abandoned their style, that slow and marvelous 'sadcore,' in favor of a rock adrenaline injection that produced a handful of enjoyable but not groundbreaking tracks.
Seeing them live, I understood.
I understood that even the electric strumming, even the nervous outbursts with which Alan now releases feedback, are immersed in that poetic and intimate aura that makes each of their songs almost a prayer (Amazing Grace is in the masterpiece "Trust"), a confession, a confidential tale, also thanks to Mimi Parker's harmonies (her voice cold and fragmented, like that of an angel).
Monkey and California are an excellent example. When I Go Deaf, even better, for the way it unfolds live: slow at first according to the old styles, then explosive (almost post-rock).
In short, the electric intensity of the new songs, in live performance, doesn’t clash at all with the melancholic intensity of the older ones (Sunflower) - or with those, among the new, that are imbued with the typical slowness of Low (Silver Rider).
On the contrary, they blend beautifully.
Death Of A Salesman is the pinnacle.
Alan picks up the acoustic guitar and sings, confessing: "So I took my guitar and I threw down some chords", but "they said music's for fools/ you should go back to school / the future is prisms and math", so "I did what they said / now my children are fed / 'cause they pay me to do what I'm asked", and "I burned my guitar in a rage".
And here, the burning of the guitar becomes real. Uncontrolled feedback for a few minutes. A motionless and glacial noise fire, which then fades into the slow, sweet opening chords... "but the fire came to rest / in your white velvet breast / so somehow I just know that it's safe".
The vote is for the Low.
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