Vernon Yard/Virgin Is Counting On Low's 'Long Division'

David Sprague, Billboard. April 1, 1995

In an era when, to paraphrase an old punk-rock ditty, everyone wants to prove he or she can play faster and louder, the lush, laconic sounds of Low make for a striking anomaly. On its stately second Vernon Yard/Virgin album, "Long-Division" (due for a May 9 release), the Duluth, Minn.-based trio cements its long-standing commitment to staying well under rock's standard speed limit.

"It's a challenge, both to ourselves and to the audience," says guitarist/vocalist Alan Sparhawk. "At first, we just wanted to annoy people by building up all this tension and not giving them any release. But a few songs in, we realized we were actually having fun with it."

Sparhawk and his wife, drummer/vocalist Mimi Parker, formed Low slightly more than two years ago, inspired by "Eno, Joy Division, and the boredom of living in Duluth." A demo tape fell into the hands of producer/underground auteur Kramer, who brought the band into his New York studio to record the expansive, nearly ambient "I Could Live In Hope."

"That record is still selling as steadily on a week-to-week basis as when it first came out," says Liz Brooks, Vernon Yard director of A&R. "The process of discovery happened more quickly than we thought it would, especially considering we did not hype the first record at all."

Vernon Yard is preceding "Long-Division" (the recorded debut of new bassist Zak Sally) with a four-song CD single featuring album tracks "Shame" and "Swingin'." The single will be serviced to both college and album alternative radio. A video for "Shame," directed by Phil Harder, will follow. (Harder shot a 10-minute film about Low that was screened at film festivals last year.)

Perhaps the most striking thing about Low's sound is its sparseness—as borne out by the languid rhythms Parker urges from a drum kit consisting of one snare and one cymbal. On "Long-Division," which dispenses with the reverb-laden sound that characterized the previous album, the effect is positively hypnotic.

"It's very much a matter of maintaining control," says Sparhawk. "Not taking control of the audience—that would be a bad thing. But there's something to be said for self-discipline."

Brooks notes that despite a low-key attitude that surrounds the band, the members exude a quiet confidence. "In this office, there's a thing we call 'Low-ness,'" she says. "It's intangible, but there's this static underpinning, this strength inherent in what they do."

According to Vernon Yard director of publicity and marketing Charlie Amster, the label plans to advertise "Long-Division" in non-music-oriented magazines, with some emphasis on literary journals such as Granta and the Utne Reader. "The people who read those magazines aren't traditional rock buyers, but Low can fit with the listening habits of a lot of different kinds of people," he says. "Since the band has done well in Midwest markets like Chicago and Minneapolis, we'll also go a little deeper in local advertising there."

In Minneapolis, the band has been granted honorary local hero status, even though Duluth is a good distance from the Twin Cities. "It's been interesting to see the Low phenomenon sweep across the Twin Cities," says Shawn Stewart of modern rock outlet KREV (REV 105) Minneapolis.

Stewart, who regularly features the band on her "Moonlight Meditation" show, recalls seeing the band move from "playing in front of 15 people, half of whom had fallen asleep, to a sold-out show at the 7th Street Entry in two months' time."

Low, which just completed a tour with kindred spirits Spectrum, will take to the road again this spring, beginning in Europe. "Playing live has been the most interesting part of being in the band," says bassist Sally. "The trick is to play as little as possible and leave plenty of empty space for the audience to move into.