The Elephant Sound
The first song reminds me of the feeling I used to get after I’d go into a record shop, walk around with nothing in particular on my mind until I spotted some random 7” with a striking cover, and took it home to discover approximately 3 minutes of undiscovered pop satisfaction. Reckless and a bit naíve. I start to think that these guys aren’t very old. But then…there’s the rest of the album. It’s so slow and meticulously paced and so sloppily thought out ahead of time. You. Over there playing bass in the corner so content with slumping into your instrument. Why don’t you lend your voice on some “oh, oh, oh’s” stretched out over minutes of my muffled, incoherent, important whispers. Listener is tricked and feels a bit foolish. I don’t actually hate Low and all those who follow in their hypnotic wake, but I don’t find myself listening to them ever either. So, it surprises me a bit that I’m still listening to this. I can’t understand a word, and words are important to me. I look back on some albums that I like and realize how the way in which albums were recorded was just as important as what was actually recorded. And then I wonder how they could have possibly premeditated or orchestrated how the actual recording of the album would make a difference. Accidents. Amazing albums happen on accident. That’s why your favorite band either sucks 99% of the time live or you catch them that one or two times when what they play sounds better than the album. Either way, you lose. Is this an amazing album? I get the idea that they might not really care if anyone thinks this is amazing. This sounds like necessity.
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