Receive Weekly Email and Text Message Updates:
Sign up for latest info on concerts, dining, promotions and more!
Go!

Related Stories ...

Reader's Picks

Top Recommendations

A short list of Denver's most popular hot spots.
user content provided by: LikeMe.net & Westword

National Features >

  • Village Voice

    The Great Walls of Chinatown

    With the exception of the electric rice cookers, this Bowery tenement could have come straight from the Nineteenth Century.

    By Elizabeth Dwoskin

  • Houston Press

    Getting Off

    DUI attorney Tyler Flood wins 80 percent of his trials--even if his clients were 100 percent drunk.

    By Mike Giglio

  • Miami New Times

    Park or Die Tryin'

    From the homeless parking mafia to the meter fairy, finding a spot in Miami has taken a turn toward the surreal.

    By Gus Garcia-Roberts

  • City Pages

    The Baddest Men on the Planet

    Straight from the Sam's Club tire shop, Brett Rogers prepares to meet Fedor Emelianenko in mortal combat.

    By Bradley Campbell

Low

Christmas
(Kranky)

Share

  • rss

By Michael Roberts

Published on December 23, 1999

Our recent holiday CD roundup ("Time of the Season," December 9) was intended to be as complete as possible, but a handful of Yuletide discs undercut this goal by arriving after deadline. Among them were Kenny G's Faith: A Holiday Album, which I wasn't nearly foolhardy enough to spin (a guy's got to draw the line somewhere), and Low's latest, arguably the oddest offering of its type this year -- and one of the most pleasurable. For those out of the loop, Low is a Duluth, Minnesota, trio that specializes in indie-pop of an especially droney, meditative sort. It comes as a surprise, then, when "Just Like Christmas," the first track here, announces itself with a fairly jaunty melody and a peppy turn by vocalist/drummer Mimi Parker, plus roiling timpani, a prominent Zak Sally bass line, and sleigh bells shaking in the background. What follows, however, is more characteristic of the group. "Long Way Around the Sea" and "If You Were Born Today," both crooned by guitarist/vocalist Alan Sparhawk, are hushed, reflective and almost impossibly lovely, "Taking Down the Tree" practically turns an annual chore into a religious rite, and "One Special Gift" uses spareness and simplicity to gorgeous effect. Add to that a buzzing, ominous "Little Drummer Boy," a "Blue Christmas" far more dour than any Elvis Presley ever warbled and a "Silent Night" that almost is, and you're left with an album that's beautiful, depressing and serene at exactly the same time. With disc art by John Porcellino, familiar to Denverites through his work with the late, lamented Felt Pilotes, and the sweetest possible liner greeting from the musicians ("Despite the commerce involved, we hope you will consider this our gift to you. Best wishes"), Christmas isn't something you should spin on December 24 after being stood up by a date; no one needs to feel that bad. But it captures better than most music the emotions of the season.