After 25 years as a band, Low have reached a new high. With theit formation, the married couple Alan Sparhawk and Mimi Parker broke new ground, bringing unparalleled slow and sad intensity to every note. And yet, Double Negative (Sub Pop), their latest album, is their most radical work, underlining the fact that the band is going through a full-scale metamorphosis. They teamed up with producer B. J. Burton (Bon Iver, Lizzie, and Francis and the Lights) to make an excruciatingly minimal, bare and powerful album. I discovered Low fourteen years ago thanks to Tarnation, by Jonathan Caouette, a mind-blowing and unforgettable documentary made in 2003. Back then, the band had already produced some of its most beautiful albums. For this first autobiographical home movie edited on IMovie, the filmmaker displayed intimate and tragic snippets of his life. His whole life was laid bare through the prism of his mother’s struggle with mental illness and the exploration of his sexual identity. His experience was recorded with a hypnotic mixture of snapshots and Super-8 videos sometimes sourced from his childhood. The soundtrack to these haunting images was beautiful. It featured Lisa Germano, the Cocteau Twins, Mavis Staples, Marianne Faithful and the Magnetic Fields. It also included three Low songs (Laser Beam, Embrace and Back Home Again), which appeared symbolically in the first and final frames, as well as in the middle of the film. When I first listened to Double Negative, I immediately thought of Jonathan Caouette, wondering how he would have reviewed this album. Here is his answer. Continuer la lecture de « Low’s « Double Negative » by Jonathan Caouette »
Qui sont les 
Inconscience ou provocation ? Culot pur et simple ou plutôt absence presque totale de sens du timing et des modes ? Difficile, un quart de siècle après les événements, de rendre compte de la curieuse combinaison d’ingrédients susceptible d’expliquer la naissance d’un groupe au patronyme de chochottes – les bouquets de fleurs, sérieusement ! – et aux accents résolument pop à Seattle, alors même que les premiers frémissements du grunge commencent tout juste à s’y faire sentir. 
On se souvient tous plus ou moins (enfin surtout nous, les jeunes, qui l’avons vu de son vivant) de notre réaction énamourée et définitive à l’écoute du premier morceau d’Eliott Smith que nous ayons entendus. L’évidence d’un talent supérieur, d’une propension à toucher les étoiles l’air de rien, et surtout du décalage entre la vision humaine, pas ramenarde, presque banale de la chose malgré son caractère divin, et l’air de rien, rien à foutre. Cet aspect désespérément morose et déprimant, et puis, 20 ans après, des regrets et un culte aussi évident que facile. 
