Low - The Great Destroyer

Genre rock Publisher Sub Pop External Links Low Sub Pop

Blimey. One minute into The Great Destroyer, and the normally quite-cuddly members of Low are threatening to kill a poor monkey's life.

The Great Destroyer is Low's seventh album, and, after a long period with Kranky, sees them move to the larger Sub Pop label. In what seems like a further bow to commercial pressures, they've picked Dave Fridmann to produce, perhaps in the hope that he would make another Deserter's Songs or The Soft Bulletin. The result is a Low album that isn't a total departure from their previous work, but sounds more mainstream than ever before.

Aside from threating simian homicide, "Monkey" is all about menace. There's a huge squelchy bass sound that rumbles throughout the song, along with very angry guitars and a refusal to explain just why the monkey must die. All you know is that it's not going to last the night. This haunting atmosphere evaporates almost instantly, however; "California" may not be all laughter and joy, but there's the beginning of a smile, with a more open, optimistic sound, that could be mistaken for a more traditional indie-pop outfit. Again, this is fleeting, as the album descends back into rage for "Everybody's Song," which is all angles and full of bile. The record seems confused, as if Low themselves don't know what direction they wish to go down, and you have no idea what's coming next. Which is just what you want from an album,

But the band still has a wry sense of humour ï "Cue The Strings" does just what it says, and marks a subtle shift back to the more traditional Low sound. In fact, one of the interesting things about the album is how much like Low it sounds; Dave Fridmann normally leaves his fingerprints all over his productions, and while there are traces of him present, the sound is still very much Low. The only major difference with The Great Destroyer is that Mimi Parker doesn't sing lead on any of the songs, stripping the band of some of their fragility.

Yet, despite the new label, new producer, and new direction, there's an air of hopelessness that casts a long shadow over the second half. The band seems to be very tired, and seeking a rest. "When I Go Deaf", a close relation to Things We Lost In The Fire's "Dinosaur Act," has Alan Sparhawk looking forward to a time when it's all over, when he can "Stop scratching out lies" and exclaiming "I won't have to think / and it won't have to rhyme." Finally, loud and scratchy guitars rip into the Low sound, tearing the song, and perhaps the band, apart.

They aren't the same when the next song, "Broadway (So Many People)" begins. It's almost as if they are surrendering to Fridmann, with his echo-effects and Flaming Lips-style sounds. The long instrumental section of this track only seems to add to the sense that Low are lost. "Death of a Salesman" continues the theme, a sparse ballad that finds the band burning their guitars and declaring that "the future's in prisons and math", easily the most unsettling lyric on the album. Then the record ends with "Walk Into The Sea," a whimper rather than a bang, glockenspiels softly clanging as the band walks into the waves.

The Great Destroyer is the sound of a band desperate to escape their little corner of the universe. The first half of the album is their Great Escape; different break-out plans shooting off in all directions, before they realize, for better or worse, that there's no way out. It's an album of dead-ends, a maze of production and misdirection, and finally, of realization and acceptance. They failed, but they left us this mesmerizing record of their escape plans.

And they never found the monkey's body.