The Artist: Low
Formed in Duluth, Minnesota in 1993, Low built a cult following by doing the opposite of what most new bands do. They played slower. Quieter. More minimal. Alan Sparhawk and Mimi Parker, husband and wife, shared vocal duties - their harmonies soft, spiritual and eerily calm.
Their early albums helped define the genre now known as slowcore - unhurried, emotionally stark, stripped down to almost nothing. But over time, Low kept evolving. Things We Lost in the Fire marked a turning point - produced by Steve Albini, it kept the minimalism but added texture, depth and urgency.
Parker’s voice, often just a hush, became the emotional centre. Sparhawk’s guitar lines broke into distortion but always held restraint. Together, they made music that felt like a deep kind of internal grace.
Mimi passed away in 2022, and the band ended soon after - but their legacy is unmatched: a quiet resistance to noise, a slow unfolding of feeling.
The Record: Things We Lost in the Fire (2001)
This is Low’s most beloved album - a slow, luminous heartbreak stretched across 13 tracks.
It opens with Sunflower - gentle drums, delicate guitar, a melody that barely rises above a whisper. Dinosaur Act follows, grinding with distorted guitar, but never breaking the spell. It’s heavy without volume.
In Metal is a lullaby for a newborn child, sung by Parker in a voice as gentle as dust turning in sunbeams. Laser Beam is another Parker-led moment - fragile, haunted, more prayer than song.
Albini’s production is raw and respectful. The spaces between notes feel just as deliberate as the notes themselves.
Even at its noisiest - the pounding climax of Embrace - it never loses its stillness. Low don’t build songs the way most bands do. They let them unravel.
This isn’t background music. It’s the sound of sitting with something - grief, doubt, devotion - until it softens.
Play Now:
🔊 Spotify | Apple Music | YouTube
Start With:
- Sunflower - simple, celestial heartbreak
- In Metal - a suspended lullaby
- Laser Beam - quiet devastation