eMusic Review 0
Low spent the first decade of their career as the quietest band in indie rock, letting the negative space around each tap on Mimi Parker's floor tom and each note from her husband Alan Sparhawk's guitar curl upward into the night. Gradually, though, they reclaimed the overt volume and fury they'd started out abjuring, and with The Great Destroyer — their seventh studio album, and first for Sub Pop — they opened up and roared, and it all came spilling out. Even in its quieter moments, this is a furious, raspingly embittered record, full of longing for annihilation, or maybe just for an end to making music: One of its best songs is called "When I Go Deaf," and on "Death of a Salesman," Sparhawk fantasizes about burning his guitar. It may have been a slap at an audience that thought it knew what to expect from the band, and it's certainly a break with the band's past. But what sustains Low here is the same thing that's always been their core: the way Sparkhawk and Parker's voices wrap around each other like they're leaning on each other for strength, step by uncertain step.