Low
The Great Destroyer

It is not easy at all to approach Low after having loved and worn out the copies of the two previous albums, "Things We Lost In The Fire" and especially "Trust" (personally my top album of 2002).
They were a splendid certainty, you could give in to the ebb and flow of emotions and (pain)e(n)ter the secret of this sort of black and white Fairport Convention, Alan Sparhawk like a low-fi Leonard Cohen, the splendid Mimi Parker as an indie icon, a Sandy Denny plagiarized by the litanic blues of Black Heart Procession or the dark psychedelia of Yo La Tengo...

All of this still (re)exists, but there is a sharp swerve towards rock. A wall of sound that dominates without overpowering, starting from the splendid opener track, Monkey. I find it a mistake to have compressed, almost isolated, Mimi Parker's singing, which is a natural gift that fans - I fear - will no longer be able to do without. Then comes Silver Rider and it is a true eden, a minimal game of voices (Mimi and Sparhawk chasing each other like Richard and Linda Thompson in their heyday), a small great magic that makes you forgive even the cheesy pop of Step and the slightly cacophonous effect of the distortions. It's a spell that breaks and is reborn multiple times, even in the onanistic classicism of On The Edge Of and the energy of the concluding Walk Into The Sea. It's not a given that the true Low must necessarily be those of the remarkable Death Of A Salesman (Arthur Miller, recently deceased, thanks you) nor in the feedback crescendo of Pissing.

There is not much left of the sonic liturgy of "Trust". I would dare say that at times a newfound or cursed (for those struggling to understand the reasons for this change) vitality can be breathed.
I cannot say I did not love this album, but in my opinion, something is missing, that emotional, psychoreactive whirlwind that the previous masterpiece had, and perhaps the group dares to look at it with detached fear. More than a destruction in progress, I would call it yet another coup de foudre for one of the most passionate and significant bands of American indie rock. It's not little.