Low
The Marlins
John Waldron Arts Center - Bloomington, IN
9.7.99

This show at the JWAC's Rose Firebay Room was the latest in a series of hushed engagements dating back to last year. The tiny space seems to inspire the audience reverence necessary for oh-so-quiet yet intense acts like Lullaby For The Working Class, Damien Jurado and Dave Fischoff to cast their spells. The perfect environment, then, for Low, a narcotic Utah trio as famous for what they don't play as what they do.

Anticipation was heavy for openers the Marlins after guitarist Mick Turner's last swing through Bloomington with his main gig, the Dirty Three. Anyone who attended that show can attest to the uncommon torrents of emotion Turner and violinist Warren Ellis wrung from their instruments for two exhausting hours. The Marlins, a duo, echo the Dirty Three format of guitar and violin but lack the anchor a drummer would provide and feature a fairly ordinary filmstrip of "road trip scenes" for visual stimulation. (It was a grim moment when the makeshift screen the film was projected on fell down in the middle of a song.) For every fleeting minute when Turner's wayward, plucky fretwork and the violinist's moody drone would coalesce into something compelling, there would be ten more when the two would drift aimlessly, seeming to sputter under the pressure of creating long pieces of improvisation on the spot. The temptation was also too great to compare the Marlins' violinist to the dazzling, demonic Ellis. With this in mind a worrying "Dirty Three Lite" vibe hung over the proceedings.

Low were deft from start to finish, wasting no motion in building songs that typically start with one repeating note or drum-thump and, five minutes later, have towered into a thrashing emotional climax or slow-simmered tantalizingly to an end.

Led by the fragile voice and moody, spectral guitar work of Alan Sparhawk, the trio rolled out most of their latest Kranky release, Secret Name. Gems like "Starfire" and "2step" glowed ember-warm with simple, familiar folk-pop melodies and the homely-pretty, lived-in harmonies of Sparhawk and drummer Mimi Parker. That vocal blend is probably the best part of Low; the two combine with the grace and empathy of Neil Young and Nicolette Larson. Sparhawk can go creep in a hurry too, as evidenced by the chilling "Cut."

After some mild hijinks spotlighted the supposedly-somber group's sense of humor (such as Sparhawk's comical inability to figure out the chords to "Happy Birthday To You" after a fan's request), they created a moment for the ages: an encore of "Soon," from Secret Name. The rugged guitar-bass-drums treatment given the song here nearly proved just as effective as the lush string arrangement it boasts on record. After another impeccable instrumental build from near-silence to a tumultuous roar, Sparhawk stepped back from the mic and uncapped an ecstatic, wordless wail - the kind of unselfconscious moment that makes good on the promise of live rock deliverance. Seconds later, Low were off, leaving the packed room dazed and buzzed but their hearing unmolested.

--Lane Hewitt