Although the band officially resists the label, Low is often included in the subgenre called slowcore or sadcore, along with a handful of other groups that share its stylistic leanings. From the little I know about this genre, Low's Trust seems emblematic of the slowcore sensibility: the songs rarely break 60 bpm, the vocals by Alan Sparhawk and Mimi Rogers are drawn-out dirges, and the instrumentation is spare with heavy reverb. With apologies to the fans of this kind of thing, I'll side with the blog Pitchfork here:
"The band's delivery is dispassionate and inert, and the deep mood swings that have typified some of their best outings-- the spiritual highs and dramatic depths-- are entirely absent."
Terence, this is dreary stuff. Melodically, this album has a dearth of musical ideas: there are sustained notes with backing harmony, some more sustained notes with backing harmony, a chord shift, an echoey guitar, and then some sustained notes with backing harmony. At one point, I may have lost consciousness. When I regained it, the same note/song/album was still playing.
Not that I really have anything against slow music: Leonard Cohen's latest release (Old Ideas), for example, barely breaks a sweat, and it is brilliant. But Cohen writes masterful lyrics, while Low wants us to believe that any lyric slowed down enough will gain gravitas. Not true. Here's "Candy Girl," in its entirety:
Candy girl
You sing that song so well
Candy girl
You try to stand so still
Wasting all our days
With Gillian and Dave
Candy girl
Candy girl
Candy girl
You sing that song so well
Not all of Trust is this incomprehensible--who are Gillian and Dave?--or this bland. "That's How You Sing Amazing Grace" is more meaningful, thanks to John Newton. But the lone bright spot on the album is the song "La La Song," which is lighter, faster, and more melodic than any of the acres and acres of mud surrounding it. Overall, one of my favorite reviews on "Rate my Professor" seems to apply to this album: your pillow will need a pillow.
On the other side of the musical spectrum is Here Comes Science by They Might Be Giants. If Low takes itself a bit too seriously, than Science is a pretty good antidote. I hadn't listened to the Giants since the 90's Flood, though its infectious melodies and hilarious lines have stayed with me over the years. I had no idea they were now producing children's music.
For me, the test of any movie, music, or television show designed specifically for children is whether it has a least a few rewards for adults, too. Films like Shrek, for example, have sly adults-only references that make watching bearable. This is also why I hate Diego with the heat of one thousand suns.
Here Comes Science meets this criterion: there are plenty of adult moments here, mostly at the expense of science-deniers such as Rick Santorum. "Science is Real," for example, takes a nice jab at those who might equate creationism with evolution:
A scientific theory
Isn't just a hunch or guess
It's more like a question
That's been put through a lot of tests
And when a theory emerges
Consistent with the facts
The proof is with science
The truth is with science
And so on throughout the album. I admit I might not listen to either of these albums again, but I can at least appreciate what They Might Be Giants is trying to do: educate children about the world they live in. I also appreciate the talent it takes to make memorable melodies from some pretty dry information about electric cars and shooting stars. And finally, I like a band that can play fast. Keeping it together at high speeds requires real skill. I'm not entirely sure Low could pull it off.
I apologize in advanced for dinging one of Eric E and Anne LaGrand's favorite bands. They have contributed many new bands and albums to my music collection over the years. But I'm afraid Low's Trust won't be one of them.
Decision: Here Comes Science, They Might Be Giants
