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Apparently, Duluth, Minnesota is very cold. And often dark. Apparently, it's also a perfect environment for creating sparse, beautiful music. Low is husband and wife Alan Sparhawk and Mimi Parker, and a bass player who apparently now changes with the seasons. Bandega Interview with Alan Sparhawk of Low (January 2008)Alan Sparhawk and Low, bothering the shit out of people since 1993.Q: How have your shows changed over the years? Has your perspective on performing live changed? A: It seems like it's always changing, mutating, depending on our mental state. When we first started, it was very different. From the outset, we knew that the music we played would divide people. We were on bills with a lot of other bands and people didn't know who we were - we were just playing for whoever was there. It was sort of confrontational - you're kind of shoving your music in front of people who, judging by their reactions, don't want to hear it. 10 years later, you kind of assume that people are coming out and wanting to hear your music, but I've realized recently that, subconsciously, I still carry that feeling of defensiveness, that it's going to be another divisive crowd. As much as things have changed, in all of the many, many shows we've done, I think I'll always have that moment of fear before I walk on. Q: Describe the most memorable live show you've played. A: The most powerful show I played recently was a Black Eyed Snakes (side project) show. We hadn't played in a long time and we had this show at a bar in Duluth called the Red Lion, the diviest bar in town, and it was about to close down. All the bands were coming through to play one last time before it closed forever. Mimi played with us - she'd never done that before - she was filling in on percussion, and it was just this giant awakening for me. Suddenly, I was up on stage, in a completely different musical context, with someone I've been performing with, and sleeping next to, for so many years. It's hard to describe - it was a very physical thing, almost as if the floors were bending - it was very weird. Q: What venue do you consider to be your "home", where you feel most comfortable, with the crowd and the place itself? A: There are two that come to mind - The Bluebird Theatre in Denver and The Great American Music Hall in San Francisco. I love the height of the rooms and the stages. The stages are just high enough that you can still feel the FM frequency from the person in the back. And you still have a direct -- I don't want to say sight-line, because I don't really look -- but the kind of room where you can look directly and see the back corner, and get a feel for how big the room is. We've played The Great American Music Hall so many times that it's become synonymous with San Francisco. One of the things I like about it is that it's like a theatre, it's classy like a theatre, but people are standing. I think that's really important - for people to be standing - because when people are sitting, it takes away a certain tension that needs to be there for a good show to happen. Q: Describe the most enjoyable show you've ever experienced as a fan. A: I saw Beat Happening back in '90 or '91 in Phoenix and it was just a pivotal moment for me. There were about six people there, but it was really powerful...in a primitive way. It made me...I remember sitting there, not knowing whether I wanted to stay glued to the back wall, or run away or start screaming. It just made me realize that there's so much more that you could do. Q: Low plays powerful, intimate music that, could be argued, is perfect for listening to on headphones, for a personal, solitary experience. Over the years, what has been your approach to bringing this intimate sound to hundreds of listeners in the wide open space of a live venue? A: I don't think we necessarily knew what we were doing when we started, but I remember thinking that we needed to stick to the minimal, quiet sound that we had, and resist the tendency to explode, to make sounds that we'd heard all our lives. In that way, people basically have to come to us, come to our music. You can't really change people's minds about these things. It's not a question about how we can win you over. We're intimate. If you want to hear, come on over. We were convinced, in the beginning, that we were gonna bother the shit out of people, so there was no point in worrying about how it all would affect people. We just did it. If we were aware of it all, we'd probably just have screwed it up. |
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