Review: Low, Beck’s Festival Bar, Forum Theatre, Melbourne

We're afraid it might be, Alan. Image: Sweded

Low
Venue: Beck’s Festival Bar, Forum Theatre, Melbourne

Low’s aesthetic may be minimalist, but their sound needs space to breathe, and in that sense the cavernous Forum Theatre was the perfect venue for last night’s gig. The band took the stage to enthusiastic yet strangely sparse applause. A contingent of serious-looking audience members held their breath and readied themselves for some appreciative head-nodding. The remainder of the audience continued chatting, unhindered by the band’s gentle opening salvo.

Low’s music rewards – but doesn’t demand – attention, and often during the first few songs I felt my concentration slipping, especially when my companion pointed out that one of the faux-classical statues adorning the theatre’s interior looked as if it were inappropriately touching itself. Heads lowered in reverence, or perhaps disappointment that the only beer on sale was the sponsor’s brand, the audience was subdued, even aloof.

Singer/guitarist Alan Sparhawk managed to cause a minor ripple of delight when he paused to declare, “You guys rock!” Damn straight – nobody stands still and listens politely like a Melbourne crowd!

Things picked up when the band finally began rocking out. Of course, “rocking out” is a relative term, and to be honest Low don’t so much kick out the jams as nudge them gently with a moisturised elbow. But Low are masters of the venerable art of loud-soft dynamics, and the pounding crescendoes they unleashed were not only spine-tingling in their own right but also perfectly judged to augment the extended quieter parts. Sparhawk’s and Mimi Parker’s vocals were uniformly gorgeous, especially when they harmonised over hushed instrumental backing.

Between songs there was a bit of undignified heckling from punters no doubt hepped up on Beck’s. “Play something with a fucking chorus!” one man implored, and Low responded by breaking into an impromptu version of Lady Gaga’s ‘Telephone’. Just kidding. Verse-chorus-verse isn’t what a Low gig is all about.

On record, Low’s deliberately limited palette is used towards strikingly varied ends, and the songs stand as distinct entities. In concert the songs feel samey, monotonous, with the occasional noisy bit to keep you interested. Any ten-minute portion of the performance was brilliant; taken as a whole, it dragged in a way that a set with a running time of an hour and 20 minutes shouldn’t.

At times Low come across as painfully earnest; some songs boasted po-faced howlers including this, from ‘Monkey’: “Tonight you will be mine/Tonight the monkey dies”. There’s nothing wrong with striving towards the profound and transcendent, but to paraphrase Dirty Harry, a band’s gotta know its limitations. Low seemed to give in to theirs tonight, but judging by the massed nodding of middle-aged hipster heads, for some in attendance that was just fine.

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