Sweet and Low

Band takes a slower approach with critically acclaimed songs

Kent Wolgamott, Lincoln Journal Star. April 6, 2001

If you believe the trendy rock press, so-called "quiet bands" are the indie music community's reaction to the chart-topping mindless aggression of Limp Bizkit and its fellow travelers.

One of the leaders of the burgeoning quiet band movement, they say, is Duluth, Minn., trio Low.

But Low leader Alan Sparhawk isn't having any of that hype.

"One: Slow music has been around for years," Sparhawk said. "Two: Kids should be listening to rock 'n' roll, not this wimpy stuff. Heaven forbid this should be the new thing. The last time that happened, it was called 'soft rock' in the '70s -- and everyone knows that 98 percent of that stuff was pure crap."

That said, Sparhawk acknowledges there are a lot more quiet bands around today. And Low, which will perform at Knickerbockers tonight, is unquestionably one of the first groups to turn down the volume and reduce the speed.

Low was formed in 1992-93. But singer/guitarist Sparhawk, 32, and his drummer/background singer wife, Mimi Parker, 33, have known each other far longer, growing up together in a small Minnesota town.

Punk rock outcasts in high school, the couple enrolled at the University of Minnesota-Duluth and soon married. Sparhawk was playing in more conventional bands when he decided he'd had enough of post-Nirvana rock.

"A lot of it was sheer desire to do something different," he said. "I'd played in some alternative-rock type of bands along with all the other millions of bands out there, and it was, like, 'What's the point?' "

Deciding to play what he found interesting, Sparhawk began playing slow, very spare songs. Parker soon joined in on minimal, Moe Tucker-style drums. John Nichols played bass. The band dropped the "s" from "slow" for a name and ventured into the clubs.

"It was exciting because most people hated it. When that happened, I knew we were on to something," Sparhawk said. "The most interesting things in art that have happened, classically, is stuff that people hated when it first came out."

In 1994 Low's debut, "I Could Live in Hope," took college radio by storm.

Nichols left the band and was replaced by Zak Sally, 29, an old friend who moved back to Duluth from California to join the group.

Since "I Could Live in Hope," Low has released five more albums, teaming with legendary post-punk producer Steve Albini on the last three. Often compared to Galaxie 500 and the Red House Painters, Low reluctantly became part of the "slocore" movement even though their sound wasn't really dirgelike.

Last holiday season, Low got some unexpected national exposure when The Gap used its version of "Little Drummer Boy" in one of its Yuletide television commercials. The ad gave Low enough money to live on for the next six months, but it didn't exactly make them a household name.

"Most people didn't bother to go, 'Who is that?' " Sparhawk said. "Your typical person watching 'Frasier' didn't care who was singing in the Gap ad."

Low's new record is turning some heads, however.

Released in February, "Things We Lost in the Fire" is the most beautiful release yet from the trio, with Sparhawk and Parker intertwining their voices, a few more conventional riffs and hooks thrown into the languid mix and more expansive production over the hypnotic rhythms.

"There was a point after we had had written most of the songs and realized we had these really snappy songs that begged to be a little bigger than what we had previously done," Sparhawk said. "We decided to do that with them rather than rein them in like we had in the past."

"Things We Lost in the Fire" has received universally strong reviews. Entertainment Weekly, the definition of mainstream, gave it an A-. The band has been featured in all sorts of magazines and is on the cover of the March edition of Rockpile, which also contains an article on Bright Eyes, the Lincoln/Omaha band that is tonight's opener.

Like Lincoln's Mercy Rule a few years ago, Sparhawk and Parker are taking their 1-year-old daughter, Hollis, on the road with them.

Hollis' presence has obviously had an impact on Low's touring life. But she has influenced the band's music as well.

"The record was written before she came and after she came," Sparhawk said. "There's some new subject matter now -- especially the birth. It was the most inspiring life experience when she was born. That experience set the mood. Perhaps we're more brave now."

Being a father has given him more of a purpose in life and kept him grounded. He readily acknowledged that and his general happiness during the half-hour conversation.

But clearly a wary sort of guy, he issued a warning to himself: "The road is littered with people who suddenly found happiness and went on to write a lot of perfectly awful songs."

Being on the road with a child makes Sparhawk and Parker unusual in the low-budget indie rock world. Their religious beliefs make them even more so. Sparhawk and Parker are devoted Mormons.

"Mim and I are members of the church and, for lack of a better word, we're devout. We go and live our lives accordingly," Sparhawk said. "It's a fairly enthralling religion that, if you look hard enough into it, it can provide insight into existing, who we are and what we're doing. In essence, that's what our music is about.

"It's a factor. But it's not an agenda. We're not like, 'Sit down, it's time to listen to the Mormon band.' If people hear that in it and want to ask about it, great. But at the end of the day, all we hope is to give people an hour or so where their lives aren't as crazy as they usually are."

Sparhawk's just as straightforward in dealing with all the quiet band hype: "My attitude, I guess, is this, too, shall pass."