Long considered a kind of mournful novelty act thanks to the extreme sloth of their tunes, it really is time for Low to be acknowledged as one of the most affecting bands on the planet. 'Things We Lost In The Fire' is the Duluth, Minnesota trio's seventh album, and it's not too ambitious to suggest few other releases this year will match its grace, humanity and power.
That power is still hushed by normal rock standards. Low songs usually unravel cautiously, often musically unadorned, so that every note can be savoured. The two singers, married couple Mimi Parker and Alan Sparhawk, have the kind of quaveringly lovely voices that can make a song called 'Whore' sound like a lullaby. One can only marvel at what bedtime for their daughter Hollis Mae - featured contributing "Squeaks, yells" to 'In Metal' - must be like.
As the albums pass, however, Low's music has become marginally less stark. The sullen confrontations and unstinting graveyard pace of their early work is fleshed out by producer Steve Albini here, as strings underpin the coos on the exceptional 'July' and 'Like A Forest', the latter working up quite a trot.
Often on 'Things...', especially on the harmonious wonder of 'Medicine Magazines', they recall a blurred facsimile of Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young. The ruefully titled 'Dinosaur Act' even features powerchords, though they're powerchords employed with a delicacy alien to virtually every other band in history.
Which all makes 'Things...' an object lesson in vitality through stealth, and a shining example of rock's endless capacity to move and surprise. Let's not mess about: a magnificent album.
