Album Review: Low - C'mon

It’s hard to believe Low have been around for almost two decades now. Arriving purposefully hushed and sombre in the early nineties, while we were busy celebrating all that was loud and grungy, here were a husband and wife (and many bassists since) who insisted on a minimal gospel. In the years that followed, this became the group's own brand of punk: murder ballads presented to us as lullabies, frontman Alan Sparhawk delivering the force of the blow and wife Mimi Parker reiterating, but with her angelic glaze.
 
Perhaps understandably, they have been exploring slightly different routes on some of their more recent records: 2005’s The Great Destroyer and '07’s Drums and Guns saw the band fully embrace fuzz pedals and experimental arrangements so as to not wear thin their quieter registers. So, where has this left the Duluth trio now? 
 
Well, opener 'Try to Sleep' might initially scare diehard Low fans: consisting as it does of pure glockenspiel-driven pop (glockenpop?), the track would not sound out of place soundtracking some inspirational TV montage. Next up, 'You See Everything' is one part Beach Boys, one part lounge standard. It’s really not until fourth track 'Done' (featuring Wilco’s Nels Cline) that C'mon delivers a reminder of Low’s harrowing side, as Sparhawk intones "If you see my love / Tell her I'm done". The dynasty is still safe, it seems.
 
'Majesty/Magic' bears a slow, trudging buildup which teases at an outburst that never arrives – no bad thing in the case of a band who have always favoured subtlety. This song in particular makes full use of the church in which C'mon was recorded, and much of this record's vast echo inevitably calls to mind 2002's Trust. This is another beautifully-produced Low full-length, although it is puzzling to learn that new producer Matt Beckley has previously worked for the likes of Leona Lewis and Avril Lavigne.
 
'Nightingale' befits its title and plays as a lovely soft hymn, while a choir of children accompany the campfire singalong that is closing track 'Something's Turning Over'. You’d almost worry about its chorus of 'la la la's, were it not for the fact that the little ones are here preceded by the line "Just because you never hear their voices / Don't mean they won't kill you in your sleep...". Mr. Sparhawk, we salute you.
 
C'mon is very much the sound of a band on their ninth studio outing; somewhat schizophrenic-sounding from the many twists and turns navigated along the way, it plays almost as a compilation rather than a focused set. Maybe this is what Parker's beleaguered refrain on 'Especially Me' is hinting at: "If we knew where we belong, there'd be no doubt where we're from / But as it stands, we don't have a clue...". Although unsure of themselves at times, these ten songs still possess much of the tension, dark harmony and fragility we've come to expect from a Low record. Now, I wonder if there's still time to write about them being Morm....