Low Drums and Guns by: Adam Davy Mon:23-Apr-07 Label: Sub Pop Year: 2007 WB rating 86 out of 100

Drums and Guns is a rare and beautiful encounter that is both relevant and poignant. It is an experience that seemingly provides a sombre soundtrack to our very existence, and which consequently leaves an indelible impression on the psyche.

Elegiac and mournful, Drums and Guns is essentially an exploration of the pain and power of the human condition, which makes its points by drawing peculiar parallels with the forlorn alienation and distinct sense of loss that so often characterises modern warfare. A concept album of sorts, Low have clearly focused their production on the establishment of this purposeful philosophic engagement, and the results are a stunning collection of tracks which, in their sparse essentialism, contain an undisputable intensity that is at once both beautiful and emotionally devastating. 

On this album, less is definitely more. For example, opening track ‘Pretty People’ makes an immediate statement that not even the chorus should be taken for granted. Effectively a call to arms, it wonderfully illustrates Low’s preparedness to discard any aspect of a song should it be deemed unnecessary in the context of their overall design. This same principle is again implemented on the stunningly solemn ‘Breaker’, within which the dulled hand-claps and church organ, when overlaid with piercingly hollow vocal harmonies, combine to formulate a composition that is clearly vacant by design. Consequently, it is perhaps this song that most effectively captures the frail, yet adamant emotion of duo Mimi Parker and Matt Livingston.

Evidently, Low are not a band whose primary concern is the pursuit of the perfect pop composition. However, what they do illustrate over the course of this album is a determination to establish and sustain an obvious mood and tone that is rarely compromised. In construing a marriage of music and militarism, the seemingly disparate sounds of creativity and destruction are curiously combined.

As suggested by the album title, the percussion serves an important function on Drums and Guns. As the listener floats through the album, a subtle yet decidedly militaristic variety of beats, adds an important symbolic dimension to Low’s opus of conflict and emotional violence. In this way, it is not so much a case of drums and guns, as it is a case of the drums are guns. Whether resembling the marching drums of war (as on ‘Pretty People’ and ‘Sandinista’), or artistically emulating the sounds of warfare itself (as on ‘Always Fade’ and ‘Dust on the Window’), the symbolism of percussion on this album, although hardly subtle, is nevertheless compelling.

If there is one criticism to be made, it is that ‘Dust on the Window’ is Parker’s only lead vocal performance on the album. Hers is a hauntingly beautiful voice that bares an uncanny resemblance to a young Sarah McLachlan at her most sullen, and although not wanting to detract from Livingston’s considerable vocal capabilities (his heartfelt vocal lamentations on tracks like ‘Breaker’ and ‘Murderer’ are particularly chilling), it seems that more prominent use of Parker’s vocals in future will only enhance the richness of Low’s creative repertoire. 

There is an undeniably fatalistic sense of inevitability on Drums and Guns, and the result is a production that celebrates the flaws of the human condition on a scale that is at times both intensely intimate, and unnervingly insightful. Powerful and militantly erotic in its subtle intensity, Drums and Guns is an affective and stylised impression of a sadness that resonates and rings true within all of us. Perhaps not so much a concept album, as it is an artistic representation of a turbulent moment in time, Drums and Guns is dark, moody, and bloody brilliant. Although ostensibly songs of heartbreak and emotional disintegration, Low’s message transcends the private and offers a fittingly morose compendium of the increasingly tragic world in which we live.