Low - The Great Destroyer
By: Ian Pointer |
Tuesday February 01, 2005 |
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.
