The Stub Project: Low – Troubadour – LA – 4.12.1996

At first glance the idea that there would be rough-housing or stage-diving at a Low concert is absurd. After all, the trio from Duluth put the slow in slowcore. True to form, for much of the show I desperately wanted to lay down, thinking what a brilliant move it would have been for the band to travel from town to town with a van-load of couches.

However, after a while, listening to Low became a struggle, if not a sort of torture – much like the stress positions that would later become popularized at Abu Ghraib. Certainly, Low are known for their trance-like appeal and the music had indeed become hypnotizing to the point that I could feel my heart slowing down. It was as if I was being sucked into quicksand, enveloped in their drone. I assume this effect is their goal, propelling their listeners lower than the ground traditionally allows.

If so, mission accomplished. Unfortunately, for me, going this low felt like I was being buried alive. Not ready to go without a fight, I began to feel rather violent, as if the only way I was going to get out of the Troubadour alive was if I killed a couple of people on my way out. And, if I correctly recall, my friend Jonathan felt the same way. The night is largely a blur after that, but I’m pretty sure we must have left early, otherwise this show could have easily been a bloodbath and I can find no evidence on the internet to suggest it was … What we did with ourselves once set loose on Sunset Boulevard, though, is anyone’s guess.