Reviewed onFriday April 8
The understated and the underwhelming lie hazardously close to one another. After all, not much separates a gentle suggestion and a whimper – except perhaps conviction.
Jep And Dep opened the evening, doing a kind of muted Lee Hazlewood/Nancy Sinatra routine. Though their music was certainly pleasant, there was something quaint about their sound. It was more musical wallpaper than anything else – decorative and paper-thin.
But the mood in the room perceptibly changed as soon as Mike Noga took to the stage. A tambourine beneath his heel, Noga spat out stories and songs with equal amounts of conviction. His choruses were like bracken breaking, his harmonica solos like a stick dragged across a chain-link fence. A version of ‘Hollywood Forever Cemetery Sings’ removed tongue from cheek and transformed Father John Misty’s stylised remove into a kind of desperation. “Jesus Christ girl,” Noga sang, his voice filling the room. “Jesus Christ.” Everything rang true, everything worked, and in many ways the night belonged as much to him as it did to Low.
That’s not to understate the prowess of the headline act, however. Low have spent the majority of their career making magic out of absence, and their live show added a palpable sense of urgency to their quiet horror and quieter still beauty. Each song nailed the audience to a time, a place, a feeling, and even the band’s newer material echoed through the space like an ornament shattering.
‘No Comprende’ hinged on a chorus that sprung open like a hangman’s trapdoor, and ‘Gentle’ was transformed into something essential by Mimi Parker’s heartbreaking voice. She has the power to make every lyric sound like a confession, every chorus a prayer.
Though they barely moved, and spoke to the audience sparingly, there was something intensely theatrical about their performance. Footage shot out the windows of cars and planes took up the entirety of the back wall behind them, as fitting a backdrop as could be imagined. After all, Low’s music is all about something being gained. Ground being covered. “Thanks,” Alan Sparhawk muttered towards the end of the set. “This has been fun.” Parker nodded. And then they launched into their final song, together, and with conviction.
