But what they do have is the drive and motivation to inspire, to fight back against apathy and negligence with the determination that is inherent to the human condition. Low may not have the answers to these questions. And, in what might be the best track of the album “Days Like These” where Sparhawk and Parker’s vocals are modulated into the drift, the country twang is only accentuated, lending emotion and passion to the message of striving for meaning in times that feel only more apocalyptic by the day. In “Hey,” the whirring drones sound just like the storms that appear over great lakes and plains alike, but instead of a fearsome phenomenon, it’s almost comforting in its size. Nowhere is this shown to greater effect than the far-too-short “More” in which the feedback sounds as if it’s struggling to get free until those angelic voices come back in and wrangle it to a point where it doesn’t sound frightening anymore. No matter how loud the droning becomes, Low’s vocals are stronger, re-affirming the humanity beneath. Coming hot off the heels of Double Negative, in which the electronics and noise threaten to subsume the group’s fragile melody, HEY WHAT is a sharp rebuke of the desire to simply live quietly and hope the storm passes overhead with little damage. And yet, as soon as Sparhawk and Parker begin to harmonize, the message in the static reveals itself. When “White Horses” begins to stutter with static, it’s difficult to believe that this is even the same Low renowned in 90s slowcore. On HEY WHAT, the duo breaks for the opposite realm of the sound barrier, yet still retains the simplistic sensibilities and folk influences that have remained since the beginning. This sentiment of a deeply rooted power is foreshadowed on the opener, “Temporal Control of Light Echoes”, where Moor Mother talks of monsters, gods, and carrying “my mother, your mother, her mother / The mothеr in my womb.” Perhaps the richness of the album lies then in this penetrating power, down through generations, cutting through the noise, flowing as the interstitial fluid within the living breathing organism that is this record.įor years, Low has made a name for themselves by sticking to the quieter side of indie rock. On songs such as “Tarot”, with instrumentation that includes ethereal pipes as well as natural sounds of wind chimes and the rustling of leaves, we are offered a look into a sense of power stored in the trauma of generations. The messaging of each song feels soulful and spiritual, rather than fiery, or rigid in its politics. Lyrically, the album centers around black identity, though takes a decidedly less straightforward approach to the politics that surround it. While all sounding ‘wet’ in essence, with a perceptible fluidity of effervescent noise, the songs range in composition from jazzier and traditionally structured to winding experimentation that could double as ambient overlaid with intense spoken word poetry. More appropriately, it is poetry, performance, and sound art expertly woven into a collection of pieces that are as diverse as they are succinct. “ Right now, there’s not much I can do,” she realises… “ ’til we can meet again”, signing off optimistically with hope “ for the new day”, dreaming – as we all were – of the return of some sense of normality.The term ‘album’ falls short of adequately describing the beast that is Moor Mother’s Black Encyclopedia of the Air. With contemplative synths and soft drumbeats beneath Perry’s meandering thoughts and observations (needing to go for a walk, seeing ambulances pass, noticing shuttered shops), it’s a sobering snapshot of what life was like exactly one year ago. The diaristic simplicity of ’′, inspired by cave drawings, is written about one specific day in lockdown. It’s like blasting through a Mario Kart session on a Nintendo 64 that’s plugged into a cinema-size TV: full of eye-popping colours you’ll want to keep exploring. Opener ‘The Princess and the Clock’ is KKB at their storytelling best: Perry sings about a kidnapped protagonist being trapped in a chamber while Lobban and Bulled craft an 8-bit-referencing sonic landscape. Each of the EP’s three tracks is set chronologically in a different tense: past, present and future.
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